


The Tale of Calowen Bright-Hair, Adventurer, Thief, Lover

by ArtemisMoonsong



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Action/Adventure, M/M, Post-War, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-07-19 08:38:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7353796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisMoonsong/pseuds/ArtemisMoonsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the adventure of Calowen Bright-Hair, sometimes called Calowen Half-Breed, theif extraordinarie, Nordic wood elf, former lover to the High King of Skyrim, and future savior of the Thieves' Guild. Apparently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Freedom is great and all, but it doesn't put food in your belly.

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: This tale takes place approximately five years after the end of the rebellion. Ulfric Stormcloak won the war and became the High King of Skyrim. There is no Dovahkiin; such an individual never existed. Ulfric himself now resides in Solitude, and there is relative peace throughout the realm - or at least there appears to be.

Gulum-Ei shook his scaly head at me. “No. I can’t do it. I’m sorry, Cal, but it’s my ass on the line, not yours.”

I scowled and picked up the satchel of trinkets I’d tossed onto the table before him.

“Why not? No, wait. Let me rephrase that: Why _now_?” I leaned over, narrowing my eyes down at him. “We’ve had a nice little arrangement for what, two years now? Three years? And now, all of a sudden, my services aren’t good enough for you?”

“Services!” He barked out a little laugh. “My, but you do think highly of yourself. You’re a thief, Cal—”

“And you’re a fence,” I cut in. “Or at least you have been up until this very moment.”

He sighed and sat back in his chair, his arms crossing over his chest. “I did warn you. I said I wouldn’t be able to work with you anymore. And believe me, _it’s not my decision_. But it’s the way things have to be, whether you or I like it or not.”

He seemed cross. And not just because I was throwing a conniption fit for the entire inn to see. To be honest, I’m not usually the type to make a scene—people who do tend to not get very far in my line of work. But I’d had a bad week.

“Look,” I said, my teeth grinding together as I talked, “I’ve had a bad week. I don’t need this shit from you right now, Gulum-Ei.”

He smirked—and if you don’t think Argonians can smirk, you’re very, very wrong. “That’s right. Finally kicked you out of his bed, did he? Look, if you need a place to stay…”

“Fuck off!” I turned away, clutching my bag of baubles to my chest and stomped across the inn, where I found a nice little table in a dark corner. I hunched down, sulking for a good five minutes, before Minette finally came over.

“Come on, you can’t just sit here,” she said. “Either buy something to eat or drink or rent a room for the night.”

“Fine,” I said, “I’ll have a mead.”

“That’ll be two gold pieces.”

I fished the money reluctantly out of my pocket.

“And I guess I’ll have a room, too,” I added, making sure she received the full force of my grumpy face as I glared up at her.

She raised an eyebrow. “That’s a first. Lover kick you out? That’ll be ten more gold, by the way.” She gave her still out-stretched hand a little shake, the two gold pieces there clicking together.

It was painful, parting with so much coin for a lousy (and probably louse-y) bed, but if there was one thing I wasn’t doing tonight, it was slinking back to the big house with my proverbial tail between my legs. Besides, it wasn’t as if I were truly hard up. I was just a miserly little bastard, like most thieves.

Few people work harder for their money than thieves, in my opinion. Well, maybe “work” isn’t really the opportune word. But the amount of hours spent planning a decent heist? I’d like to see any blacksmith or cartwright equal to the task.

 I watched her counting the coins in her hand, her eyes narrowed in concentration.

“How much for a bit of companionship?” I asked.

She finished counting and stared down at me. I wiggled my eyebrows.

She snorted. “I don’t sleep with puny little wood elves,” she said, turning away and dumping the loose coins into the pocket of her dress.

“Oh, very smart!” I said, raising my voice above the surrounding rabble. “I’ll show you how puny this little wood elf... isn’t!”

Well, _that_ was pitiful. She didn’t even bother to look back, and I rather respected her for it. A few of the other patrons were eying me curiously though. Lisette the bard moved discreetly away as she launched into her next ballad.

“Fuck this,” I muttered. I sat slouched into my chair for a few minutes before getting to my feet. “Send the mead up to my room!” I shouted to Minette before stomping my way upstairs. I made my way into one of the open doorways and threw myself into the nearest empty bed. My aimless wandering for the past few days must have caught up with me—or maybe I was just depressed, who knows—but I was out in a matter of minutes. The next morning, I awoke to a cold mug of mead and a little piece of dried out cake. Mara bless you, Minette.

 

* * *

 

I left Solitude the following morning.

Neve was happy to go; she’d been languishing in the stables for weeks now. No matter what city I happened to be in I always tried to make the effort and take her out from time to time. But things had been tense up at the big house lately. I hadn’t wanted to leave the city, even for a short ride. I guess I wasn’t quite sure what would be waiting for me when I got back.

And it all amounted to nothing. Here I was again, homeless and free. Best to emphasize the “free” part. The other part was more than a little depressing.

But I’d grown up homeless, technically speaking, at least. My mother and I traveled Skyrim, even occasionally venturing to other parts of Tamriel. It was in Skyrim that we finally settled though, thanks in large part to my step-father, I’m sure.

“Adventure awaits, old girl.” I gave Neve a little pat on the cheek, and she lifted her nose, whuffling against my face. I made sure all my belongings were secured tight before mounting and heading out. Young Blaise ran after me for a bit, waving, and yelling at me to promise to write. I’d taught him to read while I was here. No one else had ever thought to.

I think he had a bit of a crush on me, to be honest. When 15 year old boys start giving you sweet eyes, it’s probably time to head out.

Whiterun was my destination, or rather, the meadery just outside its walls. It was tough going, getting there, at least at first. I hadn’t traveled alone for such a distance, and through such rough terrain, for some time. But I’d grown up traveling these same hills, rivers, and mountains, and even if people grow and change with time, the hills, rivers, and mountains never do. I avoided the small cities and villages that dotted the main road and kept to the wilderness as much as possible. Contrary to popular belief, wolves won’t attack unprovoked, and I knew how to avoid the haunts of the big cats. _They won’t hurt kinfolk!_ my mother used to tease. Ha ha, Mother. Very funny.

Bandits were less of a problem than they had been before the war, but I knew how to avoid them, too. They tend to be creatures of comfort. Simple rule, if you see a smoke trail coming out the top of some old abandoned ruin, avoid it. Bandits don’t do caves though; caves are for bears. So, yes, avoid caves, too.

I like Whiterun. Has more of a Nordic feel to it, much more so than Solitude, though perhaps less than Windhelm—but then what could be more Nordic than a city far to the frozen north that blatantly segregates all its humans from the rest of the beastly rabble? Not so with Whiterun. The temperature was moderate, even during winter, and after Riften it’s probably the most racially diverse city in Skyrim. I love the Temple of Kynareth; I love the Gildergreen, which I like to sit beneath and listen as the wind moves through its rose-colored leaves. I love the cats and the dogs and the children chasing one another, the old women at the market in front of the tavern, and old Nazeem blathering on about his so-called special connections with the big house folk. There are two big families there who used to hate one another, but once the war ended, they apparently decided to settle back down and agree to both be good sons and daughters of Skyrim again. I love Jorrvaskr and all its semi-feral little inhabitants. I’ve known both wolf brothers, and by that I mean I’ve _known_ them, and you don’t know fear until you realize you’re being fought over by two vicious cubs who eventually realize you’ve played them both and made out like a bandit with nearly everything they owned—which isn’t much, believe me; apparently wolves aren’t really big on amassing wealth.

But I didn’t head straight for the city’s main gates. I passed the stables and tied Neve up before the Honningbrew Meadery.

A tall, blond young man was busy sweeping near one corner of the bar when I entered the meadery.

“Hello, Eimer,” I said.

Eimer did not have a crush on me. In fact the last time we’d spoken he’d been intensely sweet on a girl who worked at the Bannered Mare.

Eimer stared at me for a few seconds before his eyes lit up, and a big smile came to his broad, handsome face.

“Cal!” He set the broom down and came over, dusting his hands off on the sides of his apron before offering one to me. “How are you? It’s been forever!”

“That’s an exaggeration, but I’ll let it pass.” I shook his hand; his grip was warm and strong. “How is the place?”

He beamed. “Better than ever. I’m turning over profits that old Sabjorn could never have even dreamed of.”

“Pretty impressive when you consider Mallus nearly ran this place into the ground.”

Mallus had pretty much stolen the meadery out from under Sabjorn’s nose, gotten him locked up for a good long while, too, charged with trying to poison a high-ranking official. It was all horseshit, of course, and everyone knew Mallus was behind it, but the law didn’t care. They had their man. So Mallus took over, but a man like Sabjorn doesn’t just forgive and forget. Soon as he got out of jail, he came right back over here and murdered Mallus. Turns out he still had a key to the place, so he let himself in, crept into his old bedroom, and put his hands around Mallus’ throat until the man’s whole face turned purple. The law didn’t much like that either, and we can all hope Sabjorn felt satisfied with what he’d done right before his head left the rest of his body. So Eimer, barely even a man at the time, finally got his dream and took over the place.

Eimer nodded. “He wasn’t a bad sort, honestly, but I guess he never did really know what he was doing.” Good old Eimer. Mallus, not a bad sort.

He grinned, a somewhat shy look coming to his face. “Remember Runa? Me and her are engaged now. And…” He lowered his voice, “Don’t tell her pa, but we’re expecting a little one.”

I immediately gushed over this double whammy of a fact, since that was clearly the appropriate response to give. Besides, even though I’d technically never seen them together, I had a feeling they made a cute couple.

“Well, Eimer,” I said after a while, leaning against the bar, “You can imagine why I’m here.” I patted the hefty saddle bag hanging over my left shoulder.

And just like that, that bright friendly young face immediately became closed.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Cal, I know I’ve helped you before, but…”

I stared at him. My ass hurt from sitting in a saddle for nine days straight, you have to understand. I’d eaten scorched hare for the past week, and the one time I tried to stir things up a bit I ended up having to pluck the feathers off a pheasant. I _hate_ plucking feathers. By the time you’re finished, you don’t even want the damned thing anymore.

“You’re _sorry_?” I asked. I could feel the telltale flames of rekindled rage building within me.

Eimer backed up, holding both hands up. “Now, don’t get upset. Honest to gods, Cal, I really _am_ sorry, but this isn’t my choice. I’ve been told not to do business with—

But he paused, as if realizing he was saying more than he was supposed to be saying.

“With who?” I snapped. “With _me_?”

“Well… nothing so specific…”

I could tell he was lying though. Or at least I thought he was lying. Hell, I don’t know, I was too pissed off.

“Ysmir’s beard!!” I shouted at the ceiling. I balled both hands up and squinted my eyes closed, trying to reclaim some semblance of sanity. Eimer was a nice boy, and I didn’t kill people. Usually.

I took a deep breath. Opened my eyes again.

“First Gulum-Ei, now you.” I gave him my hardest stare. “Who’s giving you these orders?”

Eimer looked oh so remorseful. “I’m sorry, Cal. I can’t tell you that.”

I took a deep breath.

“Eimer,” I said, momentarily closing my eyes again, my fingers spreading wide, “I know you and I like you, so I’m not going to do what I’d normally do in a situation like this. But you have to understand that I’m sort of in a bind at the moment. Therefore, if you don’t tell me who’s giving you these orders in the next five seconds, I might find my hand around my knife and my knife against your throat.” I reopened my eyes, meeting his. “Are we both totally clear on this?”

By the Nine, he looked terrified. Despite my frustration, I sort of felt bad. Like I said, he was a good egg. And he had a baby on the way.

“Damn it!” I banged my right fist against the bar. “Why did you have to tell me you’ve got a fucking baby on the way?!”

“H-He would inherit the meadery,” Eimer said, his face white as he gazed about at the tidy fruits of his labor. “Runa’s just a barmaid, but she could manage it until he comes of age, and—

“Oh come off it, you big lug, I’m not going to murder you!” I shook my now-aching right hand, my brain buzzing with where to go from here. “Let me think. Gulum-Ei says he won’t buy my haul. Same as you. Says his ass is on the line. Same as you. Says he has his orders. Same as you.” I rubbed my hand against my chin now, frowning at the spiky new growth there. I needed a shave.

Suddenly I snapped my fingers and pointed at him.

“I’m going to Windhelm.”

Eimer blinked. “You’re going to… Windhelm?”

“Yep. Actually, no. I’m not going to Windhelm. I hate Windhelm. I’m writing a letter.”

“A letter?”

I paused and stared at him. “You’re repeating everything I say. Is that some sort of aftereffect of me threatening to kill you?”

He looked sideways, clearly mulling the possibility over. “I… I think so. Yes.”

I sighed. Gave him a little pat on the shoulder. He flinched, which was kind of cute. That Runa’s a lucky girl.

“Well,” I said, adjusting my saddlebag, “How about a little mead for the road? Actually, how about dinner? You still have that spare room, right? It’s the least you can do for turning your nose up at my hard-earned profits.”

If you don’t think he’d fall for that then you don’t know Eimer. He clearly felt so bad about what had happened that he immediately agreed, even set down his broom and scurried off to make sure the spare bed had clean sheets. Meanwhile, I helped myself to a bit of mead and a nearby neatly wrapped sweet roll. There was a note attached that said _‘For my beloved Eimer_ , _’_ so I only ate half of it.

That evening I penned two letters, one addressed to Enthir at the College of Winterhold and the other addressed to Niranye of Windhelm. I wrote _Please tell me why every fence in Skyrim is cock-blocking me._ To Enthir’s letter I added, _If you don’t I’ll tell everyone about that one time in Ivarstead_ , and to Niranye’s I added, _If you don’t I’ll tell everyone about your crush on you-know-who and also that you’re a stalker._

Then I sent them out with the mail—by way of the rookery, not by cart or courier, so I paid a pretty septim. A few days later, I received Enthir’s response:

_“No you won’t.”_

Which, we all must admit, is a sure sign that the man must wear reinforced underpants to carry those massive balls of his. The next day, I received Niranye’s response:

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about. By the way, I’ll be in Riften in two weeks’ time. Come see me if you have a chance.”_

Riften.

Home of the  _fucking Thieves’ Guild_.

Right, this was all starting to make sense. Actually, no, it didn’t; I didn’t know shit about the Guild and assumed they knew shit all about me. But it made _sense_.

Oh, and it’s Oengul the Blacksmith. The one she has a crush on. Set her shop up directly opposite his forge and pretended not to stare at him all day. Even caught her hovering outside his bedroom window one night. The day I left the city I gave her a key to his house as thanks for all her help. And because I’m kind of a sick bastard.

So the morning after I received Niranye’s letter Neve and I set off for Riften.

And just between you and me, I thought Eimer looked like he was really going to miss me. I didn’t take it personally; Eimer would miss anyone he’d spent a week sharing lunch, swapping stories, and playing board games with. Oh yes, I play board games. Cleaned him out one night playing Soldiers and Barbarians—even let him play the barbarians.

So, yes, there’s a reason I don’t often travel to Riften. I’ve made it my life’s work to keep well clear of the Thieves’ Guild, or any guild for that matter. (Aela and the twins even tried to get me to join the Companions. I wasn’t even remotely tempted.) But they’d made this personal.

Also I’d been carrying around 2,000 septims worth of stolen goods around for like a month now and it was starting to piss me off.

There are several reasons I hate traveling to Riften. Those reasons can be summed up in two words: “giant” and “spider.” Neve shares my disdain and is liable to throw me as soon as she catches wind of one. Meanwhile I can barely hold my arms steady enough to shoot them down. Luckily I’m a damn good shot, and one shot usually does the trick. But halfway there a pack of the things ambushed me in the dead of night. I’m not ashamed to admit I nearly shit my pants. It was a fucking bloodbath, or I suppose I should say ichor-bath. I’m sure a more competent swordsman could’ve taken the things down without blinking an eye, but I only had my two daggers, plus there was the nearly-shitting-myself situation, plus I was screaming at the top of my lungs, which all made it rather hard to concentrate. Afterward I had to strip and de-ichor myself in the dead of night by taking a dip in the pond I’d camped nearby. And I suppose that’s why they say never to camp near a water source. Well, that and all manner of other predators, but I honestly hadn’t seen any sign of the damned things until they were on top of me. Literally.

So for once in my life Riften was a real sight for sore eyes. I left Neve at the stables and made straight away for the Bee and Barb; my hunt for the Guild could wait until after I’d had a good night’s sleep without being under constant threat of spider attacks. I renewed my acquaintance with Talen-Jei, who now had a whole brood of kids with his wife Keerava. Keerava never much liked me, and I could tell she was less than happy to see me. Argonian women are pretty much the hardest women in all of Tamriel to charm, so I usually don’t bother. Tonight was no exception.

I ended the night perhaps a little bit too drunk. Talen-Jei had a wide variety of new concoctions he wanted me to try, and I admit my mood was far too sour to turn him down. And let me tell you, the man knows how to make a good drink. The first one went down oh so smoothly; the second even more so. As to the third and fourth… I can’t really say for sure. Midway through we were joined by Maul, who is shockingly pleasant once you get a bit of liquor inside him. Also a bit easier on the eyes, but that’s something I knew I’d regret come morning.

I have to wonder if my reputation didn’t precede me. Maul was definitely looking at me in a more than appraising manner, and it wasn’t just the alcohol. But ultimately I made my way upstairs alone, foolishly undressed down to my smallclothes, blew out the candle and collapsed onto the bed. I was asleep within seconds.

…Only to snap awake sometime later, about a second before I felt a sharp piece of steel press itself against my throat.

I blinked up at the beautiful woman staring down at me.

“Impressive,” she said. “Half-drunk and you still heard me.”

“Oh, I’m not that drunk,” I said. I shifted, ever so slightly, feeling the flat edge of the knife press a little harder against my skin. “Am I dreaming? I have to be dreaming. Though I usually don’t have these kinds of dreams. I mean where there are weapons involved.”

She snorted, though her expression cleared quickly. I could tell from her eyes that she was embarrassed by the little slip-up.

“You’re a mouthy one, aren’t you, lad?”

I slid my eyes sideways, a little embarrassed myself that I hadn’t realized a third person was also present.

My eyes widened. _This is definitely a dream_. Even in the darkness, I could tell the man was handsome, though a little on the older side. Strange accent for a Nord, though.

Now you see normally I’d have a lovely little comeback armed and ready; I mean, you can’t be caught lying naked in bed with a beautiful woman on top of you while nearby the handsomest man in Tamriel calls you _mouthy_ and not have like fifteen clever innuendos fly immediately off the tip of your tongue. But for some reason I remained silent; in truth, my mind went a bit blank as soon as our eyes met, and I keenly felt my nakedness—even my weapons were across the room, lying beside my pack.

“That shut him up,” said the woman, sounding smug. “Didn’t see you there, I suspect. Caught the little thing off guard.”

“Now just wait a minute,” I said. “I may be on the shorter side of average, but there’s no need to go cutting a man down when he’s at his most vulnerable.”

The man behind her laughed. Ysmir’s beard, it was a beautiful sound.

“He’s right, Vex,” he said. “Go on and let him up. He’s not going anywhere. And he’s not the enemy, at least not yet.”

Vex stood back with a _tsk_ sound, sheathing her knife at her side, her arms crossing over her chest as she glared down at me.

I cleared my throat, rubbing my neck with one hand as I sat up in bed. “You’re from the Thieves’ Guild,” I said. “Aren’t you?”

The man raised an eyebrow down at me. “Lad, we _are_ the Thieves’ Guild.” Beside him, Vex snorted.

“A-huh. And what does the Thieves’ Guild want with an innocent little elf like me?”

“Innocent?!” He stared down at me incredulously before throwing his head back and laughing. I half-expected the sound to wake some of the inn’s other patrons, but evidently I wasn’t the only one who’d drunk himself into a stupor tonight. “You have a reputation that rivals our little Vex’s when it comes to breaking and entering. Even more telling, you’ve been the plaything of the High King of Skyrim for the past year, yet that hasn’t stopped you from stealing some of the most valuable items in Solitude and beyond.” He shook his head, snorting softly. “It’s almost like you’re doing it out of _boredom_.”

“Well, being a plaything is rather boring, actually. Little known fact.”

“Word is Ulfric’s kicked you out,” said Vex, “So I guess the fruits of those exploits came in handy after all.”

“Look,” said the man, cutting me off before I could respond to her little dig, “There’s a reason we led you here, lad.”

“Wait,” I interrupted, “You _led_ me here?”

“In a manner of speaking. We’ll talk it over later, when we don’t have you at such a disadvantage.” The wink he gave me made my insides coil up inside and almost flutter. Damn this guy. “But the thing is, we need you. We’ll explain how and why later, but first I want to know if you’re willing to cooperate. I can promise you two things: If you say yes, the reward will be far beyond anything you’ve ever earned before. If you say no, we put a bag over your head, knock you out, and dump you outside the city. Don’t worry; we’ll make sure to stash you in a safe enough location, and Vex knows just where to hit a man to incapacitate him and not give him too much of a headache afterward.”

“Oh, and if you say yes, that doesn’t mean you get to join the Guild,” said Vex.

I looked at them both for a second. “Well,” I said, “When you put it that way.”

I held out my hand, not to Vex, since she looked like she’d rather cut off her own hand than touch someone voluntarily, but to her companion. “You’ve got yourself a deal, ah, …?”

He smiled, took his hand in mine. “Brynjolf. Welcome aboard, Calowen Bright-Hair.”

“It’s just Cal. And thanks.”

His lips twitched ever so slightly as his eyes held mine, and I notice he didn’t immediately release my hand, either. After a moment, he glanced at Vex and nodded. Before I could say another word, a hood was suddenly pulled over my head, and knowing what was surely coming next didn’t make the anticipation any less worse. I felt the crack against the back of my head, but it was the last thing I felt or heard for a while, as oblivion immediately enveloped me.

 

 


	2. The Guild

“So… you’re a half-blood, huh?”

“Something like that.”

I peered back at the man now staring down at me like I was some sort of specimen up at the college. His said his name was Niruin and that he had actually been born in Valenwood, spent most of his childhood and young adult life there. He was a bit older than me. Maybe more than a bit. Not very handsome.

He frowned, one hand reaching up to absently scratch his clean-shaven chin. “And your father was a Nord?”

“Yep.”

“Hmm. Hence the Nordic last name.” His eyes glanced up, towards my hairline. “I suppose you inherited _that_ from your father, too.”

“Well, he was a redhead, yes, but it’s just a coincidence. Half-bloods take after their mothers, or so they say. Hey, thanks for not pulling the whole “abomination!!” thing on me, by the way.”

He stopped staring at me long enough to actually look at me. “Do people really say that? About you?”

“Well I don’t exactly go around shouting the word ‘half-blood’ from the rooftops, either, but once word does get out, yeah, that’s usually the response.”

He sat back, shaking his head. “I’m sure everyone back home would agree. But I suppose I’ve lived with this rabble down here for too long.” The thought seemed to amuse him, in an affectionate way. “We all have our sordid little pasts.”

I thought the use of the word _sordid_ was a bit harsh on my mother, whose only crime was to fall in love with a man not of her own race, but whatever.

I cleared my throat. “Sooo…”

He blinked and sat up a bit. “Oh, of course. How’s your head?”

I grimaced and reached back, rubbing gingerly through the loose hair. “For starters, either your friend Brynjolf is a liar or that Vex has it out for me. Because this fucking hurts.”

Niruin grinned. “Probably both. Well, can you stand?”

“I think so.”

He offered to help me up, but I waved him aside, grimacing again as I swung my feet over the side of the rickety old bed and rose carefully to my feet. I was fully clothed again, and I could spot all my belongings on a small table at the end of the tiny cell-like room. Cell-like only on account of the brick walls, low light, and lingering damp in the air—despite Niruin obviously being here to watch over me, I didn’t get the sense that I was being imprisoned in anyway. Well, obviously they didn’t want me running away. But my head ached and I hadn’t the slightest clue as to where I was, other than clearly underground, so there didn’t seem much chance of that happening.

Not that I wouldn’t have tried it, given the chance.

Niruin gave me an uncertain look. “You can rest a bit longer, if you need to.”

“I’m fine.”

He nodded. “All right. Follow me then.”

He led me through a short maze of passageways; my senses must’ve still been slightly reeling because after the second left turn, I was completely lost. Although I could hear running water, and the fact that we were underground pointed to a sewage system, I didn’t smell anything untoward. They said the Guild had risen in stature (and coffers) in the past few years; if this area _had_ once been part of the Riften sewage system, it certainly wasn’t any longer. They’d cleaned it up quite nicely.

“Your ears are smaller,” said Niruin over his shoulder. “Than normal, I mean.”

“Are they?”

“Well, if you really are a half-blood there must be something different. So I’m going with the ears.”

“Not my winning personality, then.”

“Have you ever met a Nord with a winning personality? Unless your father was a social prodigy, I’d say you got that from your mother.”

I was a little thrown by the casual compliment. Well, the man had good taste, I’ll give him that.

The dimly lit passageway finally opened up into a large room, a tavern from the looks of it. A surly-looking fellow stood behind the bar, staring down at a newspaper and not looking remotely interested in serving any of the patrons. Tables and chairs were spread out before the bar; beyond that was a small underground “lake”—truly, it was more pond-sized, but the word “pond” denotes a manner of dinginess that this water didn’t possess. It was quite clear, though the surrounding darkness made it hard to see more than a few inches past its depths, and there was even a little fountain in the center. All along the edges ran a stone pathway, and there were merchants tucked into individual little alcoves. People ambled along, talking quietly or haggling with the eager-looking merchants. Altogether, there were some fifty or sixty people in the small open area.

Niruin led me towards one of the little tables; I recognized Brynjolf straight away, along with a couple of others I hadn’t seen before. Vex leaned against a wall nearby; she saw me first, though her expression didn’t change. I could’ve sworn she looked pleased with herself though, probably upon seeing how unsteady I still looked.

“Quick question,” I said to Niruin, “Some kind and slightly perverted soul had to have dressed me again at some point. Any idea who?”

He shrugged. “Had to have been either Vex or Brynjolf. You were fully clothed by the time I saw you.”

So, Brynjolf, then. Greeeat.

The man himself looked up as we approached, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Well, well. Look what the cat burglar dragged in. You look a little worse for wear, lad.”

“Do I? I feel totally fine.”

Vex snorted. “You’re so full of shit.”

A bald man sitting beside Brynjolf gave me the most nonsexual once over I’d ever received, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“So this is the one?” he asked.

“This is him,” said Brynjolf. “Didn’t I tell you we’d be successful?”

“Well,” said the woman sitting between them, “I guess I can see it. Though I’m dying to know why old Ulfric kicked him out.”

“Actually it was my decision.” I shrugged. “He gives bad head. It was time to move on.”

The bald man barked out a laugh, and both Brynjolf and the woman couldn’t seem to resist chuckling as well. Niruin had a little smile on his face as he sat down nearby. Vex’s expression never changed.

Brynjolf pulled out the empty chair beside him. “Here, lad. Have a seat. I imagine we’ve got some explaining to do.”

I did so, gingerly. Abrupt movements still made me slightly dizzy.

“I suppose introductions are in order,” he continued. “Cal, this is Delvin and Sapphire. I suppose you’ll meet some of the others if they’re around. Delvin, Sapphire, this is Cal.”

Sapphire smirked. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

“Gone to an awful lot of effort to get to you,” said Delvin, the grumpy look returning to his face. “You’d better be worth it.”

“Ease off, Delvin,” said Vex, “Brynjolf’s plan is sound. We all agreed to it.”

I looked at them all. “Plan?”

Brynjolf took a deep breath and sat forward a bit, clasping his hands together on the table. “Let me start from the beginning. Though where that is exactly is a little bit hard to figure out.”

“Let’s just say a patron of ours wants us to obtain a particular item,” said Vex. “And we were having a little trouble figuring out how to gain access.”

“You?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Wait, is this or is this not the infamous Riften Thieves’ Guild?” I looked around, feigning confusion. “Did I get kidnapped but some _other_ seedy underground group of pickpockets?”

“Kidnapped?” She snorted. “I distinctly recall you volunteering. After we promised you a small fortune, of course.”

“Was that before or after you clocked me over the head? You’ll have to forgive me, everything’s a bit hazy at the moment, dealing with a _bit_ of a headache.”

“Maybe you should ask Talen-Jei to go easy on you next time. There’s no shame in not being able to hold your liquor.”

“All right, you two,” said Brynjolf, “That’s enough. Vex, there’s nothing good comes from taunting the poor lad. And look,” He turned to me next, “We’re sorry about what happened. But we couldn’t risk someone we don’t know or trust finding the entrance to this place. Surely you can understand.”

Anyone else I would’ve had a quick comeback ready and waiting. I really can’t emphasize how much my head hurt. And it was his doing as much as Vex’s. Bastard held my hand the whole time she did it. And that was in the dark when I could barely see the guy.

Now I could see him quite clearly, so it was worse. I literally couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Me.

“Fine,” I finally said. “I forgive you for assaulting me. I mean, I don’t, but we’ll call it water under the bridge for now. Or under the bar, or… whatever this place is.”

“The Ragged Flagon, if you please,” said the bartender without looking up from his newspaper. I hadn’t even realized he’d been listening.

“You’ve managed to insult even Vekel,” said Delvin with a grin. “You are a charmer.”

“Shall we get back to the matter at hand?” said Brynjolf. “Or does anyone else have a clever little quip they’d like to share with our guest?”

Everyone fell silent. Well I could certainly tell who played “papa” in this charming little group. I caught Sapphire and Niruin exchanging little smiles. Vex just looked cross and pretended to be suddenly super interested in her boots. Delvin looked a little embarrassed, though perhaps equally annoyed at being rebuked by a man clearly younger than him.

Brynjolf nodded. “All right then. What Vex said is true.” He looked at me. “There’s something we need, and as far as I can tell, you’re the only one who can get it—or at least help _us_ get it. Of course, we knew we couldn’t just walk up to you and ask you for a favor. We didn’t know you, and you didn’t know us. We knew we had to get you to come here. That was the only way this was going to work.”

“It was Sapphire’s idea to shut down all the fences,” said Vex.

Sapphire shrugged. She looked a little proud, though, maybe even flattered that Vex was giving her credit. “Once we heard about your falling out with Ulfric, the plan just sort of fell into place. I tried to put myself into your shoes. I’ve been there, you know. All on my own, no one else to depend on but me. You’d fall back into your old ways for survival. You’d go to all the familiar faces.”

“And when they turned their noses up at you, we knew you wouldn’t like that,” Brynjolf said, an amused little look on his face. “Eimer was the hardest to convince. You’ve made quite a friend there. He’s a good lad, a little too honest for his own good. I suppose it told us something about you that he’d become so loyal to you.”

“Loyalty to a point. He gave in eventually, just like all the others,” said Vex.

 “Enthir didn’t like it either,” said Niruin, speaking up for the first time since he’d sat down. “I think he has a soft spot for you.”

“Aww,” I said. “I’d be touched if that were even remotely true.”

Brynjolf laughed. “Don’t hold it against him, lad! We paid him off quite handsomely. Besides, he knows us. He’s worked for us for years. They all have.” He winked, as if to say, _bet you didn’t know that, did you?_ “Once I assured him we meant you no harm, he was quick to agree to our terms.”

“Yes, all right, all right, everybody loves me. We’ve established that much.”

“Except Ulfric Stormcloak, apparently,” said Sapphire, a little smirk on her pretty face.

“Trust me, he’s crying into his animal furs as we speak. I left him, remember?”

Brynjolf laughed, though he tried to cover it with a cough. He cleared his throat afterward.

“We knew you’d be annoyed by the betrayal of Gulum-Ei and the others. We knew you were bound to get pretty desperate, too. You’re not the type to even consider an honest day’s work, unless I’ve not done my homework right. If you couldn’t sell your stolen goods, you wouldn’t do the smart thing and learn a new trade. You’d do the clever thing and try to find out what was behind all this.”

“So you’re saying the only reason I’m in Riften is because of you.”

“In a manner of speaking. We figured, if you could figure out who was behind it all, you’d be more than worth the time and effort it’d taken to lure you here. If you didn’t…” He shrugged. “We stood nothing to lose, other than the fact that we’d be back at ground zero.”

“You’ll be happy to know the plan _wasn’t_ to knock you out,” Vex said. “You have a reputation. We assumed Maul would be able to lure you to bed after a couple drinks. After which the plan was to drug you and bring you here.”

“Wait a second.” I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, rubbing my temples with both hands. “Are you saying you tried to trick me into sleeping with MAUL? And that if I had I wouldn’t have the worst headache in the world right now?”

“Something else might be hurting though,” said Sapphire, who clearly couldn’t resist. Delvin evidently found this so amusing he decided to take it out on the table, which he slapped repeatedly while laughing.

“Also,” I added, “Did you all just basically call me a slut?”

Even Brynjolf was smiling now. “Not at all, lad. You mustn’t think too hard on it. We simply knew, or thought we knew, what it took to turn your head.”

“Big ole muscle-y Nords,” supplied Sapphire, snorting now because she couldn’t stop laughing.

I huffed under my breath—not even for show, I mean, I was kind of pissed. Sure, I’m aware of my so-called reputation. And sure, it’s well-earned. Flirting’s a skill, unless it’s a talent, which it happens to be with me. Also I have like zero morals, which is why I’ve had more than one screaming husband chasing me out a window in nothing but my skivvies. (Once entirely naked—hence my fondness for the Temple of Kynareth. Danica’s a real peach, really came through for me that night. Plus I learned I look rather fetching in priest’s robes.)

But hey, I knew when I was being mocked. And I was definitely not sitting there mildly regretting not letting Maul fuck me into the mattress up at the Bee and Barb.

“In any case, you didn’t fall for it,” continued Brynjolf, “So Vex and I had to improvise.”

“You know, this isn’t my first visit to Riften,” I pointed out. “I know Maul. I’m not saying he’s not the type to be up for a quick romp down at the docks, but he was laying it on pretty thick last night. Hell, the man said I had _pretty eyes_.”

“Well, you do,” said Sapphire, smiling.

“Oh I’m not disagreeing with you. Just pointing out that Maul’s not really the type to compliment a guy on his eyes.”

“Noted,” said Brynjolf, a little smile curling at the corners of his mouth, too. “We’ll have to work on Maul a bit, assuming we ever decide to use him in this sort of operation again.”

“What, Thieves’ Guild business or seducing handsome young elves?”

“Are they not one in the same?” He winked, which rather made me feel warm all over—fool, thy name is Calowen.

“And now for the juicy part,” said Vex. “Shall I tell him where this item is located?”

“Do,” said Niruin. “I can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

Vex smirked and looked me square in the eye. “The Palace of the Kings.”

They were all staring at me, clearly waiting for a reaction. At least Brynjolf seemed mildly concerned, his brows slightly knit together. The rest were a little obvious in their anticipation of some sort of meltdown.

“…Oh,” I said after a while.

Okay, I can admit I was a little thrown. That was definitely the last place I’d been expecting. Some treacherous underground ruins? A derelict Dwemer crypt? A half-sunk pirate ship, three centuries old? Not a problem. Just point me in the right direction and make sure you have my sack of septims waiting when I return. (Well, okay, the pirate ship would be a problem. I can’t swim.)

The former seat of my ex-lover? Otherwise known as the most impenetrable fortress in all of Skyrim?

Oh.

“Are you all right, lad?”

I blinked and looked at Brynjolf, who was now definitely concerned, Mara bless him. At least the others now looked a little awkward in their previously eager anticipation.

I made a face, sitting back in my chair. “You’re asking the wrong question. You should be asking, _Do you think you can do it_.

“Well?” prodded Vex, clearly not one to wallow in sympathy for long. “Can you?”

I looked at them all, my arms crossed, one finger tapping lightly at my elbow.

Somehow I knew I was going to regret this.

“I can do it,” I said.

Brynjolf smiled, clearly relieved. “That’s music to my ears, lad. You’ve no idea what a load off you’ve taken.”

Delvin grinned and leaned over, smacking my arm as if we were war buddies and hadn’t seen one another in years. “That’s the spirit. We’ll make ‘im one of us before too late, eh, Brynjolf?”

“Not so fast,” said Vex. “This isn’t supposed to be an offer to join the Guild. We need him this time, but that’s it.”

“Afraid he’ll be the new favorite?” teased Sapphire, and I have to imagine she struck a nerve because Vex looked like she wanted to slap that smirk right off her pretty face.

“I’m inclined to agree with Vex,” said Niruin, which was sort of a surprise. I kind of thought the guy was in my corner. Evidently I was wrong. “Though you _are_ jealous.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “And I have to admit, if he can pull it off, you might have reason to be.”

“This isn’t a competition,” said Brynjolf. _Thanks, Dad_ , I thought. “Vex, you’ll be accompanying Cal. If we’re satisfied with your work, then we’ll consider taking you on on a trial basis.” This was directed at me. The expression on my face must’ve been less than grateful, because he let out a little laugh. “You’re welcome to go at it alone again after this is all said and done. Though you may find it a bit difficult with nary a friendly face to sell your goods to.”

I stared at him, long and hard.

“You people are bastards,” I said.

They all laughed, every one of them. And you know the worst thing about the whole damn situation? I actually found myself liking them.

This couldn’t end well.


	3. A fool and his gold

I was given leave to rest for two days before setting off. They let me sleep in a more private room, this one far removed from the Flagon. I assume this was a display of trust that frankly I don’t think I’d earned. This had to have been a decision made by what I began to think of as the “pro-Cal camp.” Thus far there was only one member: Brynjolf. Vex and Niruin held the “anti-Cal camp” down pretty doggedly. Oh, Niruin was polite to me, even conversational, but he freely expressed several times that I was being given too much freedom and that he didn’t think I should be allowed to join the Guild, at least not for a while. I found this rather interesting, because as far as I could tell, neither Vex nor Niruin were bad people. But they were both at the very least entertaining trust issues—as to why, I couldn’t have said just yet.

My second day there Brynjolf unfurled a map he had of Windhelm as well as the big house itself. Neither had been crafted to assist your average everyday traveler—they were created by thieves and meant to help thieves. Each included entrance points, escape routes, guard rotations, and the like. The city map was quite detailed; the palace map not so much.

Apparently that’s where I came in.

“We’re assuming there’ll be fewer guards now that Ulfric no longer resides there,” Brynjolf said, tapping his finger against the palace map. “I was hoping to be able to use this to our advantage.”

“You can assume that, but you’d be wrong,” I said. “Jonthor Free-Winter is acting jarl now, and he’s ten times more paranoid than Ulfric ever was. I haven’t been there much myself since we left the city, but I can almost certainly guarantee you that the patrols will have doubled at the least, especially down near the docks and through the Grey Quarter.”

Brynjolf looked at me in surprise. “Jonthor Free-Winter? But isn’t he the son of Brunwulf Free-Winter?”

“Yes, and that’s pretty much the only reason he’s got the job. It was a favor to his old man before he died. But Jonthor doesn’t share his father’s sympathy for non-humans. It might not appear so on the surface, but Windhelm is even more segregated than it was before the war. Jonthor is also convinced he’s going to be assassinated, probably because he’s made so many people angry with how he’s trying to run things.”

“Great,” said Vex. “Sounds like it’ll be damned impossible to get in.”

“Not necessarily. I have a few ideas.”

“And how does Ulfric feel about this?” Brynjolf asked. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

I shrugged. “He realizes it was a mistake. Or at least I think he does. But he’s more cautious than he was before the war. He thinks about politics more than anything. And maybe segregation is the politically correct thing to endorse in a city like Windhelm.”

“And the Blue Palace,” said Vex.

I looked at her, blinking.

She arched a brow. “I just figure it must’ve no longer been politically expedient for the High King of Skyrim to take a Bosmer to bed.”

I just stared at her. I could feel the tips of my ears warming; fortunately, it’s dark everywhere down here. I don’t think they could see.

“Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t,” I finally said. “Not sure how that’s entirely relevant.”

“Agreed,” said Brynjolf, though he didn’t sound as if he were rebuking Vex. He kept his voice light, tapping at the map again. “All right, then, lad. Tell us how we’re to get past all these hypothetically increased guard patrols.”

I told them what I knew and what I thought I might know. They seemed content. Or at least Brynjolf was; Vex was understandably a little more cautious since she was the one who was going to be accompanying me.

“If you get me killed on this damned heist I’ll never forgive you,” she muttered.

I couldn’t really think of a reassuring reply, so I just smiled and shrugged.

The morning we were to leave, I was awakened by Niruin, who warned me before carefully tying a blindfold over my eyes. I wasn’t entirely surprised by this; I was just grateful no one would be assaulting me again. He led me through several passages, silence stretching between us for several minutes.

“Any reason why you were chosen for this illustrious task?” I asked, absently shifting my saddlebags from one shoulder to the next. My loot had been traded for gold coins by their fence, Tonila, and Brynjolf had assured me no one would touch anything while I was gone. Did I believe him? Not really. But I let him do it anyway.

“I volunteered.”

“Oh?”

I found that surprising, given his distrust of me, and he must have heard it in my voice.

“It’ll ease my mind if I lead you out myself. That way I’ll know for certain you won’t be able to find your way back unless we let you.”

Well. At least he was honest.

His neutral distrust was unnerving. It wasn’t like it was with Vex. Vex just didn’t like me. I knew Vex didn’t like me because she insulted me every chance she got. Also, she actually told me she didn’t like me.  
But Niruin—he neither seemed to like nor dislike me. I was here, and he was dealing with it because evidently he must. And now he was going to make sure I wasn’t here anymore, and that I couldn’t come back, either. So much for solidarity between the races.

I was a little surprised to learn he was the only Bosmer in the Guild, or perhaps simply the only senior member. I’d met a few others—guild members, that is—over the past couple days, but it seemed that the five I’d met initially were essentially the five who ran things. There had been a sixth, Karliah, but she had been killed not too long ago. Apparently it had impacted Brynjolf the most, though I certainly hadn’t been able to tell. He was also clearly the de facto leader, though nobody explicitly said as much.

Even through the thin cloth of the blindfold I could see there wasn’t much light to guide us. And I have better eyesight than most. Gradually, however, light and sound began to return, and before long, Niruin bade me to stop while he worked at some sort of grate or gate. After a moment, I felt his fingers behind my head, and the blindfold was removed.

I squinted into the outside light. We were at the mouth of some little manmade cave, an abandoned sewer, probably.

“I was to lead you a bit further than this before removing the blindfold,” he said. “But I seriously doubt you could find your way back from here.”

“Trial and error,” I joked. “Might take a while though.”

“And you might have your foot snapped off and your head removed from your body,” he said. “The entire passage is lined with traps. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Well all right, Thieves’ Guild. You win this round.

I bid him good-bye, and after taking a second to get my bearings, made for the Riften stables. I paid the stable master the remainder of the small boarding fee and mounted Neve, who seemed very happy to see me. “No more spiders this time,” I promised as we began to head out.

About an hour or so later I met up with Vex, who’d been waiting at the agreed upon meeting place.

“Took you long enough,” she said.

As it was hardly my fault, seeing as how I’d been blindfolded for half the morning—as she likely well knew—I refrained from responding. I watched as she mounted her horse, an aging brown gelding that seemed only nominally interested in its surroundings. At least it wouldn’t spoke much. Might break a leg or two if the arthritis started to kick in halfway to Windhelm though.

She gave me a sharp look as we started to head out, evidently noticing my amusement.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. Just wondering if your friend there is up to the journey. I mean, we can make frequent stops if we have to, but I’m assuming we’re on a bit of a schedule.”

“We are, actually. It took us long enough to get to you. If we don’t have the item in question delivered soon it’s the entire guild’s ass on the line. As for the horse, the Guild spends its money where it’s needed.”

“And that doesn’t include quality mounts.”

“It doesn’t include them at all. Do you know how much it costs to keep one of these things fed and housed indefinitely? We’re not a band of damned highwaymen.”

“No kidding. No highwayman would be caught dead on that poor old thing.”

“You know, at this point, I’m not sure what it is about you I dislike the most, but the way you exaggerate things for your own amusement is definitely up there. Anyway, we’ve got a contact just east of the city. It’s cheaper to pay him to find horses for us temporarily when we need them. He’s not stupid enough to steal the prize stud and think no one’s going to notice. Meanwhile an animal like this one can disappear from the main herd and be back in its stall a week later without anyone even being the wiser.”

I suppose that made sense. See, that’s why I hate guilds. No thief should have to waste a single second worrying about economizing. What’s mine is mine, and what’s yours will hopefully soon be mine.

“What about yours? A gift from your precious High King?”

I smiled and gave Neve a couple pats on the neck. “Not at all. We’ve been together for years, Neve and I. I asked her once if she missed her old owner and she said no. We’re a good team.”

“So you stole her.”

“Why would you assume that? Sure, she came with a saddle and tack plus a saddle bag filled with goodies, but that doesn’t mean I _stole_ her.”

“A-huh.”

We rode in silence for a little while, the horses’ hoofs crunching softly in the worn down undergrowth. The path was narrow and tricky, but since Vex was in front and I trusted Neve to know where to put her feet, I wasn’t too concerned. I thought back to what Vex had said earlier, and though no one had thus far thought to trust me with any truly vital information, I thought it couldn’t hurt to simply ask.

I cleared my throat. “About this item we’re supposed to be looking for—”

“I’ll tell you more about it when we reach the city. For now, information is being given on a need-to-know basis.”

At least you always got a direct answer with Vex. Like that time I asked her what it was about me she didn’t like and she answered, _Everything_. ‘Our little Vex’ Brynjolf bloody calls her.

“You don’t trust me. I’m hurt.”

“Even Brynjolf doesn’t trust you.” She glanced over her shoulder at me. “You should take that as a sign of respect.”

I chewed on that for a little while, absently doing my best to keep Neve from nipping at the old gelding’s tail. The footing was tricky, so Vex was being careful, but the pace was a little too slow for Neve.

I had to wonder just what it was I’d done to earn the respect of the leader of the Thieves’ Guild. Generally I don’t necessarily like earning the notice of even nominally powerful people—hell, look where it’d gotten me now—but I can’t say I minded all that much in this instance.

“You’re not fooling anyone, you know.”

I blinked, shaking the thought from my head as I looked at her, or rather, at the back of her head.

“About what?” I asked mildly.

“About Brynjolf. It’s so obvious you’ve got it pretty bad for the guy. I’ve seen the way you look at him. The way you can’t get a word out when he so much as looks in your general direction.”

Oh. Well.

“Gentle reminder that I suffered a head injury just two days ago,” I said. “Or maybe I’m just shy. I could be shy, you know.”

“Don’t believe me?”

“Vex, anyone with eyes in their head would find it difficult to string two pieces of rational thought around that man.”

“You like pretending things don’t bother you, don’t you?”

Shore’s bones, she was annoying.

“And what does Brynjolf think of this?” I asked, hoping to shift the conversation a bit.

“Honestly? I’ve no idea. The man’s a closed book when it comes to that sort of thing. There were rumors he and Tonila had a thing going on, but I think Dirge just made that up to tease Vekel. Otherwise? No one even knows what he likes. Men or women, humans or elves, or whatever the hell you are.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Evidently she’d exhausted her repertoire of conversation topics because we continued on in silence after that. Can’t say I was all that disappointed. I didn’t necessarily like having my thoughts picked from my brain as if I’d written them out on parchment for her.

The ride north was fairly arduous. We were avoiding the main road to the west and instead clung to the mountain pass on the east. This was to decrease any chance encounters with other curious travelers. Should anyone ask, we were to say we were a pair of traveling bards, hoping to ply our trade first at Windhelm, then up at Winterhold. When I’d asked Vex if she could even sing or play, she’d only stared at me. Apparently, no one thought this was a potential problem except me.

Vex wanted to camp near a lake, but I nixed that idea in the bud.

“Sure, we can stop here,” I said, as she turned her old nag away from the beaten path and towards an old dock I could barely make out in the distance through the trees. “Hope you like trolls, though.”

She pulled her horse up abruptly.

“Trolls?” she asked, spearing me with a look over her shoulder.

“Yep. Not as rampant in these parts as they are by the river, but believe me. They’re around.”

“I’ve camped here several times and never encountered one.”

“Do you see this?” I pointed to the small scar just to the left of my chin. “Ripped the skin wide open to the bone. That was five years ago.”

“And?” She’d at least pulled her horse up to stop and listen.

“Where are the other animals, Vex.”

Well that seemed to stump her. She sort of blinked before looking around, as if half-hoping a fox or a deer would bound into view. But the surrounding forest was silent. Even the skies and the trees were clear—no birds.

She looked back at me. “I don’t understand. There aren’t any signs. Or smell. You can always smell a troll five leagues off.”

“Hasn’t been here long enough. Plus I know for a fact there’s a small cave at the far end of the lake you’re so eager to sleep next to. I’d bet 20 septims we go in there, we find a nice fresh cache of rotting carcasses. Maybe even a few human ones.”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Only 20 septims?”

“Yes but keep in mind that if I lose I’m also dead.”

“Fair enough.” She frowned. “Any bright ideas where else we should camp?”

“As a matter of fact, I know just the place.”

I led her back towards the main path, where we continued our gradual ascent for another half hour or so. Eventually, we came upon some Dwemer ruins tucked against the side of the mountain. Vex immediately balked, but I convinced her it was safe. I’d spent a night or two here in the past when traveling through the region. That’s the great thing about Dwemer ruins. Everyone else is so terrified of them that you can pretty much sleep the night away without a care in the world. I mean, apart from the occasional mechanical spider, which, after you’ve dealt with the real thing, honestly aren’t worth making much of a fuss about. The constant noise can make it hard to get to sleep though.

Vex was noticeably disturbed by our surroundings as we began to set up camp. And by that I mean she was even crosser than usual.

“So,” she said, slowly turning the hare I’d shot earlier on the little spit we’d constructed. “Now that Brynjolf isn’t here to protect you, maybe you can tell me the real reason Ulfric kicked you out.”

“Oh? And why would I do that?”

“Well at least you aren’t denying it anymore.”

I smiled a little, leaning back against the side of the solid stone bench. I was tired. I’d only had a two day rest after riding for seven days straight after all.

“I suppose that’s true.”

She blinked, looking at me. I admit, I liked catching her off guard. I had a feeling that didn’t happen too often.

I shrugged. “I don’t really blame him, to be honest. I’m convinced some of the others are the ones behind it. They’re all obsessed with doing and saying the right thing these days. Oh, you hear them all crow about _the true sons and daughters of Skyrim!_ and _our ancient ways and traditions_ but it pretty much all comes down to power, doesn’t it. Now they’ve got the power and they don’t want to lose it. And neither did he.” I looked down at the fire, almost smiling, but I could tell the expression didn’t quite make it.

“And they didn’t want their High King to be seen sleeping with an elf.”

“Worst kept secret in Tamriel, I’d have thought. Except that hardly anyone actually knew it was me. At least not in Solitude. Not yet anyway.”

“But they did in Windhelm.”

“Something like that.”

She paused to stir the ashes a bit, causing the flames to leap up just a little bit higher, licking the cooking meat. “Are you really trying to tell me that the High King of Skyrim left Windhelm and moved his seat to Solitude just so he could keep rolling around in bed with you?”

I laughed. “Is that so surprising?” I gave her a wink, though as usual, my flirting had just about zero effect on her.

“Did you love him?”

I felt the laughter die in my throat. I looked down at the flames again; the smell of the smoke wrapping around the meat was beginning to make my mouth water.

“Isn’t that nearly done?” I nudged a stray stick beneath the spit with the toe of my boot. “I’m so hungry I could eat that old nag of yours. Not that I haven’t eaten horse meat before, but I don’t think I could do that in front of Neve.”

She gave me a look, but even she seemed to accept that she’d crossed a line with that one. A few minutes later saw us tearing into our roasted hare. It wasn’t exactly the most delectable meal I’d enjoyed on the road. I’d seen a few mushrooms growing up the mountainside on the way up here. I wondered if Vex would let me make a stew for tomorrow.

Afterward, we stomped out the fire and settled down into our respective bedrolls to try and get some sleep. The entrance room we were in was nearly pitch black now. It was unnerving, but I was used to it. Vex, not so much.

“I can’t sleep with all that damned racket!” she finally said. The sound of far off Dwemer pistons, moving as quickly and cleanly as the day they were built, echoed ceaselessly throughout the room.

“Shall I tell you a bedtime story?” I said, yawning around my smile.

“Tell me how you got that scar.”

The request surprised me, but I saw no reason not to oblige.

“Was it really a troll?” she asked.

“Mm. A big one, too. Not the usual sort of brown grungy-looking ones. This one was all white, and half as tall as a man. Even worse, it was snowing, and the sun had already gone down.”

“What were you doing out there anyway?”

“Hunting for the entrance to some ruins. The jarl of Dawnstar had offered a prize for the retrieval of some Nordic relic. Its weight in gold, I think it was. I honestly didn’t care about the prize; I just liked the idea of taking it before any of the others could find it.”

“You really are a relentless little piece of shit, aren’t you?”

“Thank you. Anyway, I couldn’t find the entrance, probably on account of the storm blowing through. I should have given up, but I was stubborn. Young, too. In any case, it’s like you said: I smelled it before I saw it. Heard it, too. This sort of harsh, raspy breathing. I could feel the ground almost vibrating beneath me. It was coming in at a run, full tilt. I knew running at that point wasn’t an option; there’s no way I could outpace it, not through the snow, at night, in unfamiliar terrain. But I had my bow. So I lined up the shot, knowing I’d only get one chance. Luckily the big ole buggers have an extra eye, right in the center of the forehead.” I tapped my own forehead, smiling idly up at the dark ceiling above. “As soon as I saw that eye, I loosed the shot. It was already in mid-swing though. Claw caught me on the chin; it was dead when it hit the ground, but you should’ve seen the blood! I’d heard you bleed more in the face than elsewhere but had never had the chance to test that out until that moment.”

Vex was silent for a while, and I wondered if she’d finally fallen asleep.

“You killed a frost troll,” she finally said, her voice slow and careful, “In a snowstorm, at night, and with one shot?”

“Hm. Lucky shot, I suppose.”

“You really expect me to believe that?”

I laughed. “What can I say? I can see pretty well in the dark, you know. And I suppose I have my mother to thank for making me practice my shooting so much.”

“Unbelievable.”

But I could tell from the sound of her voice, however skeptical, that she didn’t really think I was lying. She’d seen me shoot the hare earlier, after all, on horseback, on my first attempt. So I’m a good shot. I don’t brag. Probably the only thing I don’t brag about, but there it is.

There was silence between us for a while then, and again I thought she must have fallen asleep.

“Well answer me this, Mr. Impossible. How confidant are you about your plan for breaking into the palace.”

I thought about my answer for a second, then: “Reasonably confident.” But after a moment, I added, “I mean assuming everything happens the way it’s supposed to. I haven’t been back in a year, you know.”

She sighed. “Exactly what I thought.”

I heard her shift and roll over in the darkness, and that was the end of our conversation for the night. I stayed awake for a few more minutes, but oddly enough, the far off sound of the pistons quickly lulled me to sleep.

We awoke the following morning and traveled hard throughout the day. Three more nights passed, each spent under the shadow of the mountains rather than in the Dwemer ruins. Vex wanted to keep watch, but I convinced her that it would do more harm than good. We needed to be fully rested and at our best once we made it to Windhelm.

On the evening of the fifth day, I finally caught sight of the first plumes of smoke. It wasn’t long before the foreboding dark walls themselves loomed into view.

I sighed as we pulled the horses up.

“Home sweet home,” I murmured. I must have been wearing some grimace because Vex took one look at me and snorted.

“Right,” she said, dismounting. “I guess it’s time to tell you what we’re looking for.”

“Considering the circumstances, I’d have to agree that that _would_ help our overall chances of success.”

“It’s a small black box, about the shape and size of a book. It’ll be very light, and under no circumstances are we to attempt to open it.”

“Oh? This patron must have quite a pair on them if they expect a bunch of thieves to listen to _that_ request.”

“Oh we’ll listen. And so will you. She’s the entire reason the Guild even still exists at all.”

“Is she now.”

“She is. Her name is Maven Black-Briar, and if you cross her, trust me. It’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

Maven Black-Briar. I knew the name well. Anyone who had even passing knowledge of Riften politics—hell, Skyrim politics—knew that name. She had her hand in several bigtime business operations, and had personal connections with the East Empire Company as well. The jarl of Riften had little love for her but could do nothing to really stymie her clawing desire for more and more power.

And yes, there’d been rumors that she had connections with the Guild. I just hadn’t ever put much stock into them.

Evidently, I’d been wrong about that.

“I see,” I finally said, my eyes alighting on Windhelm’s solemn dark bulk in the distance. “Well. Then I guess we’d best get this show on the road.”

I looked at her. She looked at me and nodded. We nudged the horses into a trot, heading down into the snowy valley that nestled the great hulking city.

 _Hello, Windhelm_ , I thought. _I’d have died a happy man never seeing your ugly face again._

But it wasn’t to be. The gods—if you even believe in them—are funny like that sometimes.


	4. Challenge accepted

Niranye was already waiting when we finally came upon the designated meeting place—a small pond just outside the city, hidden from view by the tall trees and rock formations that surrounded it, and frozen solid at this time of the year.

“Either Altmer blood runs colder than I realized or you’ve developed some disturbingly masochistic tendencies,” I said, dismounting. “It’s bleeding cold out here, you know.”

She stood up from the rock she’d been sitting on; she’d even placed a little blanket down on it beforehand. She was that sort of woman.

“Nonsense,” she said, “I simply knew when you would be arriving. The Guild is always prompt when it comes to these sorts of things. And I was just walking back from visiting Bolfrida anyway.”

“How is Bolfrida?” asked Vex, dismounting and tying her horse to a nearby tree.

“Frighteningly happy. She’s with child, and won’t tell me who the father is.”

“I should think Faryl the obvious guess.”

“Oh! Is that even possible?”

Vex laughed.

Yes, _she actually laughed._

“Apparently,” she said, glancing at me.

“Well aren’t you two just a pair of peas in a pod,” I said. “Vex, I had no idea you could converse like a normal human being and engage in real social interaction.”

“Oh, Niranye and I go back for years.”

“Do you.” I looked at Niranye. “How interesting that you never told me you were in thick with the Thieves’ Guild.”

She shrugged. “That’s not the sort of thing one goes bandying about, is it?”

“Apparently not.”

I vaguely remembered Brynjolf saying they had a relationship with Niranye, Eimer, and the others, and it made sense. I suppose I just hadn’t really imagined that the Guild would have such far-reaching influences across Skyrim. I had always associated them with Riften, and Riften alone. I’d dealt with the Companions, after all, who for the most part restricted themselves to Whiterun. But in retrospect, it made sense that a guild of thieves would need to have their fingers in multiple cookie jars, so to speak, much more so than a mercenary group.

As amusing as my disgruntled response must have been, Vex wasted little time getting down to business.

“Well,” she said to Niranye, “Did you bring the uniform?”

She had. I didn’t even get the chance to close my eyes and whistle and pretend to peek. Vex simply began disrobing, removing her weapons first before pulling off her top and shimmying out of her pants and boots. She pulled the dress on next, Niranye helping her tie up the bustier, something she probably wasn’t used to adjusting properly. The shoes looked soft and comfortable, but would doubtlessly do little to keep her feet warm. She then tied her hair back in a more modest style; the overall effect was of a young woman going quietly about her day, a working class girl, a girl no one would ever think to pay much attention to.

And yes, she was beautiful. I didn’t need to see her in her small clothes to know that already. But there are words for those who get turned on by ogling those who aren’t remotely interested in them. And none of those words apply to me. Plus, though I found women’s bodies to be very soft and very pretty, and I confess there are few things I love more in the world than having a lovely girl bouncing on top of me (bouncing tits are a treasure—I’ll stake my reputation on it), the sight of their soft, naked forms rarely produced the same response from me that a man’s would. I guess you could simply say I liked them in different ways, and for different reasons.

Vex stashed her clothing with the rest of our belongings: in an old chest conveniently located behind a wall of trailing vines. This was obviously not the first time the Guild had used this location.

“Ha,” she said, pulling out a pair of delicate, blue satin slippers. “Delvin’s been looking everywhere for these.”

I chose not to ask.

“Aren’t you worried about her wandering off?” she asked, rising from her feet and watching as I removed Neve’s saddle and bridle, not bothering to tie her up beside the gelding.

“Not at all,” I said, giving Neve a sweet pat on the cheek. “She knows I’ll be returning.”

“Be serious.”

“But I _am_ serious,” I said, feigning offense. “Neve and I have an understanding. An unshakeable bond, if you will.”

“It’s a wood elf thing,” said Niranye without looking up. She was busy counting the coins Vex had handed her for her troubles.

Vex looked less than receptive. “Come on. That stuff’s just a myth. If it were true we could’ve had Niruin have a chat with the rats in the Cistern ages ago.”

“Then I’d say the shifty little bastard’s been holding out on you.”

Niranye stifled a snort, causing Vex to shoot her a disgusted look. So much for being best gal pals.

“Elves,” she muttered.

“Good to see you’re getting into the Windhelm spirit of things,” I quipped.

She rolled her eyes. “Very funny. Do you remember the plan?”

“Vex, I invented the plan.”

“Doesn’t mean you remember it all.”

“I remember it. It shouldn’t take you more than twenty minutes, if we start now. But take your time. I may not be able to find a boat as quickly as we’d like.”

The plan was simple—ingeniously simple, if I do say so myself. I actually knew of several ways to get into the palace, each more difficult to access than the next. Nearly all of them would require some sort of assistance from the inside. This is where Vex and her new “just a sweet little servant girl” costume came in. Posing as a servant would enable her to enter the big house easily enough; the guards would think nothing of such a girl coming and going. Of course, only certain members of the household staff were allowed upstairs. That was where I would come in, since I was, apparently, the only member of the Thieves Guild who’d ever even been to that part of the palace. This was where the item in question—Maven Black-Briar’s treasured little black box—was supposedly located. And it was why Brynjolf and the others needed me.

Oh, and yes, I’d partially accepted my fate of being the newest member of the Guild. For now, anyway. They’d pretty much blackmailed me into it, the bastards. I’m pretty sure Niruin was the only one who thought I’d renege on my acceptance. Even Vex had seemed to force herself to swallow the bitter inevitability of it all.

Well, at least after this was all said and done I’d have a fresh new goal in life: make Vex like me or die trying. Which I’m guessing means I’ll be well into my 100s before she stops looking at me as if I’m the muck she’s just scuffed off the underside of her boot. Because, you know, she’ll finally be dead then.

She and Niranye then departed for the city while I made for the opposite direction. The shoreline was my destination, and if I thought the mountainside was cold, the wind-driven sleet sweeping off the surface of the river was bitterly oppressive in comparison. It took me longer than I’d hoped to find a small enough boat—it needed to be small so as not to be noticed or missed, and it needed to be unattended. Which wasn’t a problem for most smaller boats stashed against the shoreline surrounding the city, but every minute I spent looking for the right one was a minute more Vex was having to spend inside the big house. And the increasing darkness as evening gave way to night wasn’t helping matters much.

The one I ended up choosing was old; I was half worried it wouldn’t hold my weight let alone prevent the river water from seeping in. But it proved sturdy enough. It had been stashed within an incongruously located group of snowberry bushes—they didn’t normally grow so near the shoreline. I suspected magic had been involved, and that the boat belonged to a group of brigands who employed a renegade mage. It probably wouldn’t be missed, not for a while.

I pushed the boat off into the river, hopping in and grasping the two rickety old oars. I’m hardly an accomplished rower, seeing as how I avoid the water in general, and I’d definitely underestimated the difficulty. Sweat was beading along my brow, even despite the cold, by the time I’d made it to the side of the palace, the heavy, salt-ridden waves of the river slapping against the black stone. I spent way too long looking for the little hook twisted into the rock; even when I found it, the waves had become so strong I was concerned the little boat would capsize once I left it. But that would be a concern for later.

I swallowed and looked down into the inky depths below. It was now or never.

I took a deep breath.

_Okay. If you do this, Brynjolf will probably shake your hand again._

That had to be enough. I closed my eyes and slipped into the water.

The shock from the cold was instantaneous. I refused to open my eyes, instead feeling around for the hole I knew would be there. Once I found it, I pulled myself through, feeling up, sliding my hand along brick until the short tunnel finally opened up—and I popped my head up above the surface.

Luckily I didn’t have to tread water, as there was a ladder right there, ready and waiting, built into the stone.

The others had expressed surprise (and mild amusement) that I would be willing to enter through a sewer, but in truth this was less of a sewer and more of a gutter. This was where all the castle’s greywater was emptied, so at worst I would be swimming through someone’s grimy bathwater.

Also I didn’t really appreciate being judged so readily; how did they know I wouldn’t step foot in a sewer? I mean, I wouldn’t. But they didn’t know that.

I climbed to the top of the ladder, relieved to see Vex’s pale face peering down at me as I neared the end.

“Took you long enough,” she said.

“Why is that always the first thing on the tip of your tongue? Why not, _Cal, I’m so glad you made it!_ or _Cal, I’ve been so worried about you!_ Or better yet, _Cal, you poor thing, you look frozen solid!_ ”

She clicked her tongue, and in the dim lighting I almost thought I saw a smile.

“I guess I’m just not a very good liar,” she said.

There was a grate separating our faces, and I heard her fiddling with it. It could only be opened from the inside—I knew because I’d tried it before.

Once it was opened, she stepped back, offering me a hand as I climbed up and out of the little hole. Then it was my turn to strip. The frozen wet clothes now hanging on my frame were already causing me to shiver uncontrollably; if I didn’t get them off soon, I wouldn’t be of much use from here on out. I stuffed my wet things into the satchel Vex had brought before quickly pulling on the servant’s uniform Niranye had given her—the male version this time, of course. Not that I don’t look great in a dress, but the idea here was to _not_ be noticed.

“All right,” Vex said once I’d finished. “Now what?”

“Well it would help if I knew which room this precious black box of yours was stashed in.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “The jarl’s private chambers.”

It took a moment for me to remember to breathe again. I blinked and stared at her.

“Are you serious? The jarl’s fucking… what the hell, Vex? You think I can break into the jarl’s fucking personal chambers? Upstairs is one thing, but—

“Well we’re already in, so you’re going to try,” she said, cutting me off. “Now which way.”

I grumbled under my breath before resignedly leading the way, beckoning her to follow. We were still on the lower floor, close to the kitchens. It was close to dusk, an hour or so after dinner, so the place was nearly empty. The optimal time for a heist would have been in the dead of night, but finding the greywater hole would’ve been nearly impossible in the dark. So this was the next best thing: the cook and their assistants wouldn’t be returning to begin working on breakfast for at least another eight hours.

Once the coast was clear, I pulled her down one of the servant’s hallways. I’d told the Guild that though I knew these passageways like the back of my hand, it was mostly on instinct. I couldn’t put them down on paper; I couldn’t simply draw them a map. It was something only a fellow thief would understand, which is probably why they all took my word for it. And for once in my life, I was speaking the absolute truth.

Without my assistance, Vex would’ve undoubtedly taken more than one wrong turn. It would’ve only been a matter of time before someone she encountered—a servant, a guard, whomever—would’ve become suspicious and realized she didn’t belong here.

The last time I was here, the door leading from the servants’ quarters to the upstairs was never guarded. I was right in assuming that today would be different. Luckily, however, the guards (there were two) weren’t standing or sitting directly in front of the staircase; they were sitting in the nearby room. This had been little more than a storage closet but had clearly been cleared out so the guards on duty could entertain themselves with dice or cards rather than have to stand at attention for hours at a time. Apparently, the guards themselves didn’t share their jarl’s paranoia. Too bad for them.

Sneaking past them was easy enough. Heading up the stairs themselves was a risk though; the path was very dark and narrow, and any upstairs servant would know immediately that we didn’t belong. But I knew the routines of the household staff; I knew when chamber pots were emptied and fires were stoked. Barring an emergency, there shouldn’t be anyone heading up or down these stairs at this time of the day.

I was right. There were, however, guards patrolling the entire upstairs hallways.

“Now what?” Vex muttered, the both of us crouched near the end of the hallway. We watched as first one guard, then another, stepped down a hallway or meandered into one of the rooms. They left the doors to the private bedrooms closed though.

This was actually far worse than I’d anticipated. I’d expected the jarl’s private chambers (and the family chambers in general) to be well-guarded, but the entire upstairs living area?

Hopefully it would be just a matter of timing it right.

“First we watch,” I whispered back. “See if they’ve some sort of pattern. Figure out how many there are. After that it should be easy.”

“And the jarl’s chambers? If it’s locked?”

I chewed on my bottom lip for a few seconds. That could very well have been a problem.

If I didn’t happen to already have a key.

I pulled it slowly, casually out of my little satchel (which I’d remembered to transfer over from my wet things, along with my two daggers), keeping my face straight as I held it up for her to see.

The fact that we were desperately trying to remain undetected is probably the only reason she didn’t haul off and punch me in the face.

“You little shit!” she hissed. “Why didn’t you say anything? Why put up such a big stink when you had the fucking key the _whole time_?!”

“I wasn’t worried about getting _into_ any of the rooms. I was more worried about the guards. And really, Vex, I’m surprised at you. How can you imagine that I _wouldn’t_ still have a key?”

That silenced her, grudgingly, no doubt. I had several keys with me, in fact. All I’d known was that we were breaking into the palace. I just made sure to pack with me every key I still had from Windhelm, including the dungeon key. Nine help us, we wouldn’t be needing _that_ one.

And the guards were definitely here in numbers. But I was confident—okay, pretty sure—that if we timed it right, moved as quickly and silently as possible, that we would make it.

It was nervy work. No sooner did we think we had the timing right when I would start to round a corner, only to have Vex haul me quickly back, narrowly escaping the notice of yet another guard. About the only thing we had going for us was the guards’ obvious boredom and apathy; like the guards downstairs, they none of them suspected for a moment that they’d have an ounce of work to do up here. To their credit, though, they continued their patrols, which was probably a good thing. If we’d encountered a pair sat on the floor and tossing dice together, there would’ve been no way past, no matter how silent we were being.

We turned the final corner, and there it was: the heavy wooden door leading to the jarl’s personal chambers. A part of me wanted to run recklessly forward; the tension of suddenly halting, peering around corners, or remaining motionless and still as the stone walls themselves was nearly overwhelming. I was sweating again, too; if we were discovered, we likely wouldn’t be questioned, or if we were, it wouldn’t be for very long.

But another part of me wanted to turn and run as fast as I could back in the opposite direction.

Vex raised an eyebrow at me and jerked her head forward. We couldn’t linger here. I nodded and came up from my crouch, moving as silently and as swiftly as possible. I couldn’t hear her behind me, but I sensed she followed. I slipped the key into the keyhole and—at the last minute, forgot, fucking _forgot_ , that the hinges had been horribly rusty when last I’d been here. How many times had I been wakened by the sound? Ulfric getting up before me, moving about the bedroom with surprising silence and grace for such a large man. But that damned door, and those damned hinges, squeaking to life, pulling me from slumber to blink into the pale pre-dawn streaming in from the balcony.

But the door didn’t squeak. I breathed a silent sigh of relief. The new jarl’s servants must have oiled it back into silence.

I guess that said it all—a jarl who has time to think about having his door hinges oiled isn’t really the same sort of man as one willing to start a revolution and conquer his way to the throne.

Vex and I slipped quickly inside; I locked the door again behind me. We straightened and had a quick look around the room.

Very little had changed. The same thick rugs lay beneath our feet, protecting us from the cold stone beneath—I knew well how soft and thick they truly were. All of the furniture was the same, the same heavy trunks and dressers, the massive four poster bed that dominated one side of the room. Even the bedclothes were the same, piles upon piles of them, that made you want to burrow beneath and never again emerge.

“Hey,” said a distant voice. “Snap out of it.”

I blinked and looked at Vex, who was glaring at me from across the room. She held up a little black box in her right hand. “Time to go.”

I nodded and swallowed, tearing my eyes away from that great bed and all the memories still muffled beneath its furs. We’d been instructed not to take anything else, which in my view was yet another reason never to join a guild—imagine telling a thief what he can and can’t steal! But Vex was adamant about following orders to the letter, which I suppose spoke of Maven Black-Briar’s power and influence, even as far from Riften as we were now. In any case, I was a little too distracted by my surroundings to put up much of a fight over a few baubles.

We’d crept back outside, making sure to lock the door behind us, and were stealthily making our way back through the upstairs hallways when the last sound I ever wanted to hear began to reverberate throughout the palace walls.

Vex stopped, her entire body tensing. “What the hell is that?” she hissed over her shoulder.

Before I could open my mouth to respond, we heard a voice call from ahead, “We’ve got an intruder! Everybody look sharp!”

I closed my eyes, dread settling into the pit of my stomach.

“Oh, Ysmir,” I heard Vex say under her breath. “The sewer grate. I forgot to close the fucking sewer grate!”

Honestly, I don’t know how we’d missed something so simple. Maybe it was nerves on my part. Maybe even someone as cool and collected as Vex could manage to slip up every once and a while.

Whatever the case, we were now definitely in trouble. Dozens of footsteps began pounding towards us, the upstairs guards apparently all deciding to make for the jarl’s quarters first.

“Now what?” I asked, my heart pounding.

“What else? Back! Go back!”

That didn’t seem like the best plan, running back towards a clear dead end. But as I didn’t really have any suggestions to counter it, I had no choice but to turn tail and do as commanded.

I led the way around the last corner, whipping my key back out as I came to a stop before the jarl’s door. Just behind me, I heard a voice.

“What are you doing up here? You don’t belong here!”

Heart thudding hard in my throat, I looked behind me at the short empty hallway. I’d managed to unlock the jarl’s chamber door, and it now stood open before me. I hadn’t been discovered.

“I’ve found her!” the voice called out, the guard clearly thinking Vex was working alone.

Honestly, I don’t really know what came over me. My body seemed to move separate from my own command of it. Before I knew it, I’d gone back down the hallway, stepping around the corner, where I could see the guard’s back, and behind him, Vex.

Her eyes widened when she saw me.

The guard whirled around, his hand on his sword.

But then his eyes widened, too.

“Cal…!” he said.

Oh. Okay, that was unexpected. I’d been on a first name basis with quite a few guards but certainly didn’t know them all. But I guess everybody knew the redheaded elf their jarl was fucking on nearly a nightly basis. It’s not like we were quiet about it.

At least everyone liked me. That’s quite a feat in a town like Windhelm.

Vex reacted quickly. Her dagger was in her hand faster than I could blink. Before I knew it, the guard was slumped over and toppling to the ground.

“You didn’t kill him?” I asked, surprised.

“We don’t kill unless we have to,” she said. “Come on.”

She grabbed me by the wrist and led the way back down the hallway and into the jarl’s quarters. Footsteps pounded behind us, shouts heard when they must have discovered the unconscious guard. I locked the door, but it would only buy us a few seconds. Every guard would have a key.

“Shit!” said Vex. She looked around the room, the fingers of one hand clenching through her hair. “ _Shit_!”

Beneath the sound of all the angry shouts I heard the telltale sound of keys jangling.

“They’ll be on us any second now,” I said. “What the fuck do we do?” I whirled around to look at her. “There’s no way out!”

A determined look settled on Vex’s face. She grabbed my wrist again, pulling me further into the room, past the bed, past the bookshelves and small armory—out onto the balcony, which stood far above the crashing waves beneath.

I felt all the blood drain from my face.

“Oh no,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. I tried to step back, but her grip on my arm was strong. “I can’t.”

“You can and you will.”

She pulled me towards the edge of the balcony, climbing up to the lip and dragging me up with her. The wind whipped so hard against our faces I was almost certain it was going to blind us.

“I can’t swim,” I said. “Vex, I can’t—

Behind us, the distant sound of the door banging open, boots hurrying forward, voices shouting.

She looked at me. “You’re about to learn.”

And with that, she jumped off the edge of the balcony, pulling me along with her, as we both plunged down into the dark depths beneath.

 


	5. Homecoming

The water closed over my head, and darkness enveloped my senses. I felt as if my feet must have plunged ten, twenty feet down into the depths. The cold began to steadily permeate my entire being. I was going to die—I knew this for a fact.

But Vex never loosened her hold on my arm. I felt a strong pull upward, almost wrenching my shoulder. My body didn’t want to sink, despite what my terrified brain was telling it; I was simultaneously being pulled and sucked up to the surface.

I gasped into the frigid night air, and almost immediately got half a lungful of water as a wave crashed over us.

I coughed and spluttered, but Vex retained her grip on my arm, and I remained afloat.

“I can’t swim!” I repeated. My legs were kicking uselessly beneath me. My heart was rattling so far up my throat I was half afraid it was going to leap out of me.

“Just keep your chin up,” said Vex. “And keep kicking.”

So I kicked. My limbs began to gradually numb, but I told them to keep kicking, and so they kicked. I thought I could feel the blood beginning to freeze in my veins.

It was dark, and in my panic I couldn’t see in which direction we swam. It was obvious that we couldn’t return to the little boat. It would have been discovered, and the guards would be waiting. Besides, we were now facing a completely different side of the river—I say “river,” though it is, of course, a mouth that yawns open towards the cold, dark northern sea. The water was horrifically salty.

“Walk, you useless little shit!”

Vex’s tired voice jarred me from my nearly catatonic state. I looked down and realized the water was only up to my chest now. I forced my feet, now numb with freezing cold, to connect with the earth beneath.

Vex let me go once we were both walking, the water sloshing about our thighs now. Eventually we both fell to our knees, gasping and panting for breath.

I felt a violent shiver wrack my entire body. I knew she likely was feeling the same.

“We can’t stay like this,” I said. “We have to keep moving.”

“Where?” she asked, still panting heavily as she rose to her feet. She offered me a hand up. “It will take us an hour or more to circle back around.”

I straightened, taking a moment to catch my breath. “Lucky for you... I know... just the place.”

I can see well in the dark—better than any human, better than any mer. I tell people that—that I can see in the dark—but I never say how well. The night sky was overcast, and the moons were new. But I could still see, as well or better than any wild animal.

I led the way through the darkness, picking my way through frozen brush and rock outcroppings with legs trembling from the cold. I didn’t look back but listened carefully to make sure Vex still followed. She would be even more exhausted than me, having literally hauled me through the water with her as she did.

Within a mere fifteen minutes we came upon a small cabin. I knew my fingers would be too numb and frozen to deal with a lock pick, so I lifted my boot and simply struck at it with my heal. Again, and again, and again I hit it, until the locked snapped off, the wood splintering slightly.

Inside there was kindling, blankets, water, food—everything a person might need for a comfortable overnight stay. The cabin was hidden, unknown to most, and had been mostly utilized by Windhelm’s previous jarl—and his young lover.

It had been a place for us to go when we didn’t want to be seen by anyone else for a while. Where he could just be mine, and I was his, and nothing else mattered.

Pretty stupid when you think about it.

I bolted the door shut again and lit the fire as quickly as my shaking hands would allow.

“We need to strip,” I said to Vex. “There are blankets in that chest there.”

We removed everything, small clothes included, shedding our heavy wet things as quickly as we could shuck them off our bodies. We each then huddled under several blankets apiece, moving as close to the fire as we possibly could.

For several minutes, we just sat there silently, facing the fire and shivering. But gradually I began to feel heat return to my body, first in my chest and face and belly, then in my arms and legs.

“What is this place?” Vex finally asked.

“An old hunting lodge. Been here for years, I’d imagine. We used to come here, me and him.” I smiled faintly. “Him and whomever.”

She looked at me. It was nice not to see pity on someone’s face after saying something like that. In fairness, he wasn’t the only one to be unfaithful. That’s just kind of how it was.

Besides, I’ve learned quickly enough how pointless it is to devote yourself to one person. You’ll always end up disappointed, every time. You say _cynic_ , I say _realist_. I say also that Ulfric Stormcloak was and is a man who succumbs to bestial instinct more than you might imagine. Oh he’s got the whole imposing head of state thing down all right. But I’d never met a man more eager to whip his cock out.

You’re thinking I’m just being bitter right now. You’re probably right.

“You came back for me,” said Vex, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “You didn’t have to do that.”

I shrugged. “Frankly I’m disappointed you didn’t think I _would_ come back for you.”

She gave a little huff—the cold-and-tired Vex equivalent of a laugh I think.

“You’re a strange one,” she said after a while. “But I know what you are. From one loner to another, I can tell.” She narrowed her eyes, her lips pursing together slightly. “You like to make friends, but nothing serious. And I guess that goes for all your relationships, too.”

“Vex, you just called me a slut again.”

“If the boot fits.”

I smiled, giving a faint little huff of my own. Okay, I do like sex. I would like to have sex with just one person if that person were really nice. But that sort of thing isn’t really in the cards for someone like me.

“So how’d you two meet, anyway?”

“Who?”

“You know who. Word is you tried to break into the palace.”

“Oh, that’s the word, is it?” I chuckled. “I considered it a challenge. _The impenetrable Palace of the Kings_. Hmm, sounds a bit naughty, doesn’t it? Well then, me being the pervert that I am, I suppose I couldn’t resist.”

“And did you do it?”

“I did. I made it—not through the grate, somewhere different. But I got greedy. I didn’t think I’d passed the challenge unless I’d made it to the jarl’s chambers. And I was stupid. The intelligence was that the jarl was out, seeing to his troops, I think it was. Well, he wasn’t out. He was home. In his rooms, in fact.”

“I see. Then what happened?”

“The rest is personal, you saucy thing. Needless to say I didn’t spend the night in the dungeon.”

“Well you certainly can’t say the old blowhard doesn’t seize a good opportunity when it looks him in the face.”

“Vex!” I clicked my tongue and stared at her. “That almost sounds like a compliment!”

She snorted. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“I won’t. Instead I’ll hold it close to my heart. Then every time I’m feeling sad I’ll peak in and remember that deep down you really love me.”

She laughed, and I smiled to finally spot a bit of color returning to her cheeks. As for myself, I’d miraculously regained all the feeling in my limbs, including each and every finger and toe. That was quite the relief, as I knew of many the hunter or adventurer who’d lost parts of themselves to the uncaring Skyrim cold.

“We should probably get some sleep,” I said after a while.

“Is it safe? We aren’t that far from the city.”

I leaned over, poking at the embers of the fire. “We should be okay. There are hundreds of similar lodges around the area. Plus no one save the one guard saw us, and I know from experience that what you did should have him out for quite some time.”

Her lips quirked at the corners. “Ha. You got off lightly. He’ll be lucky if his eyes open again at all.”

“Oh really. Whatever happened to _We don’t kill unless we have to_?”

“My hand might’ve slipped. I was in a hurry.” She paused. “What about dogs?”

“They’ve have to search the entire shoreline—in the dead of night. And honestly I wouldn’t worry about the dogs. Dogs like me.”

“A-huh. Another wood elf thing?”

“Don’t be silly. Everybody knows that’s just a myth. And lastly, don’t forget, you and I are currently in pretty much the best position we could be in. Anyone tries to break through that door and they find a young couple naked under a pile of furs before a roasting fire.”

She looked impressed. “I hadn’t thought of that. I guess you’re right.” She was silent for a moment, then: “I’m not fucking you to get into character though.”

“Aww. Not even if I pout and bat my eyes?”

“ _Definitely_ not then.”

I grinned, but the expression was interrupted by a yawn. I rubbed my eyes, sighing heavily.

“Let me see if there’s anything for us to wear.” I got to my feet, keeping a blanket around me, and rummaged through the old trunk. I found a couple pairs of trousers and a shirt, which I gave to Vex. There was only one bed, but it was large enough to share. Besides, I knew we’d both appreciate the extra body heat.

We dressed quickly, and I noticed in the discarded pile of blankets the infamous black box—that which had started it all.

“Whatever’s in there must be damned important,” I said. I confess there was probably a trace of irritation in my voice. To go through all that just to please a powerful woman? It didn’t sit well with me.

“It’s not our concern. And don’t bother trying to open it; it’s spelled shut.”

“Spelled to keep out the cold and the water, too, I’m guessing.”

“Brynjolf never would’ve approved your plan if it weren’t.”

Considering the original plan was for us to both swim back through the graywater sewage hole, that made sense. I decided to acquiesce for now and let the subject drop—we were both dead tired anyway. But as I snuggled down under the furs, Vex settling down as well—we slept back to back—I had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time I saw that damned little box. I knew myself too well. I don’t like to be played, especially not by people like Maven-bloody-Black-Briar.

Come hell or high water, I was going to find out what was in that box.

* * *

I awoke the next morning, sun filtering in through the little lodge’s tiny windows, the charming sounds of songbirds and forest animals dancing in my ears. The smell of the north lingered in the still air: the barely burning logs, the snow-covered fir trees, the wind blowing off the mountains. I also had a pleasantly warm body slumped across my own, an arm looped snugly around my chest, and the loveliest face breathing gently against my cheek.

I only had to wait a few seconds before the eyes in that lovely face snapped open.

I grinned. “Hello.”

Vex sat up, the look of shock on her face transforming to disgust.

I couldn’t help laughing. “It was good for me, too, in case you were wondering.”

She made that telltale clicking sound with her tongue before picking up the pillow she’d been sleeping on and smacking me in the face with it. Seeing as how that only served to make me laugh harder, she evidently decided it was a lost cause and decided to get up and begin gathering our things.

Our clothes were dried, but our boots were still quite damp. It was going to be an uncomfortable walk back to the horses. We dressed and did our best to restore the little cabin to order before heading out. We were both starving, but of course I’d left my bow with the horses, and we obviously couldn’t return to the city. Luckily I knew several of the hunters and fishers in the area, and one of them happened to have spent the night in her usual cabin. We bought some dried meat and fruit off of her before continuing on our way.

Vex did a decent job of hiding her surprise to see that Neve was still exactly in the place I’d left her. Not far from her and the old gelding lay the crumpled corpse of a lone wolf. It was only one of the little ones; even so, I felt obligated to promise Neve a whole basket full of apples once we returned to Riften.

The return trip was slightly more harrowing than the journey north. Evidently the box we were carrying was rather important, and there was little doubt that whomever had stolen it—apparently it was not the Jarl of Windhelm himself, despite the fact that it had been hidden in his personal chambers—would be wanting it back. My mind was busy going over the possibilities. The box’s light weight took money out of the equation, plus even though such a number of septims would be a king’s ransom for someone like me or Vex, it would be nothing to a woman like Maven Black-Briar. My mind kept returning to parchment—a bill of sale, perhaps, or an incriminating letter. And yes, I had managed to get my hands on it, long enough to give it a few shakes and confirm my suspicions about the weight. Even though I’d replaced it exactly as I’d found it back in Vex’s saddlebags, upon returning she’d given it a curious look and kept her eye on me all through dinner.

The night before we returned to Riften saw us back at the doorstep of the Dwemer ruins. I felt calm for the first time in days—we were both sure that someone was on our trail, however far behind. But I felt confident that whomever it was wouldn’t follow us into the ruins.

And for good reason, too. Honestly, I don’t fault people who fear these ruins. They’re a lost part of Skyrim that no one really understands anymore. And if they’re not infested with Falmer they’re overrun by deadly mechanical spiders.

I picked up the leg of one such specimen, the metal shining gold in the light of the fire we’d built up.

Vex glared at me from across the fire. “How can you touch that thing?”

“Aww, don’t worry. It can’t hurt you now.” I waved it at her, making her shudder.

“If one of those things crawls over my face while I’m sleeping…”

“You probably wouldn’t have much of a face left.”

She grimaced. “You sure know how to make a girl feel at ease.”

“My specialty.” I tossed the leg aside, where it landed near the rest of the body. I’d wasted three arrows on the damned thing. You had to get the point of the arrow in the joints—either between the legs, crippling it, so you could then crush the body with a blunt weapon, or between the metal and the soul gem. I always aim for the soul gem since I’m not really the type to pack a war hammer during routine travel. But even with my abilities it often takes more than one shot.

Dinner had consisted of a carp and mushroom stew (it’s better than it sounds), and we were both sitting opposite one another around the fire. Vex was busy sharpening her daggers, and I was rubbing a bit of oil into the creases of my gloves, which were beginning to crack. We’d relaxed into a semi-comfortable silence, as comfortable as two people who’d been forced to strip naked in front of one another could possibly be. Yet despite that—and despite the fairly dangerous mission we were still in the process of returning from—I was beginning to reassess my understanding of Vex. She didn’t hate me. Well, she might’ve disliked me initially, but apparently not enough to let me drown at the bottom of the river. But it was more like she didn’t trust me. In her defense I’d have had that damned box opened as soon as her back were turned—if it weren’t for whatever spell had been put over it.

But it went deeper than personal distrust. Sure, I was a thief. I was used to people giving me the wary eye. But so was she.

And then there was Niruin. Congenial, talkative, even friendly. Yet made it plain that he didn’t trust me as far as he could throw me, and didn’t seem to mind coming up against Brynjolf to say as much. As for the man in charge himself—well, okay, I may have a bit of a blind spot there, but I’d gotten the sense the man was overly anxious to accept me into the fold. He was Vex’s foil—whatever had her back against the wall, and Niruin’s, too, had him hoping for the opposite: that I was someone they could all finally depend on.

There was definitely something more going on here.

“Tell me something,” I said, breaking the quiet between us. “The five of you are basically the ones in charge, right? You, Brynjolf, Delvin, Niruin, and Sapphire. I met some of the others, but they talk about you all as if you own the place.”

Vex remained silent for a moment, never looking up from her dagger and whet stone.

“I guess you could say that,” she said after a while. Her voice remained carefully neutral.

“But there was a sixth one, wasn’t there? Karliah.”

The sound of steel against stone stopped abruptly.

Vex stared at me across the flames.

“Who told you about Karliah?” she asked. The steadiness was still there, but there was a sharp edge to her voice, a definite warning.

 _Noted and ignored_ , I thought.

“Rune,” I said. I picked up a stray branch that had fallen from the pile and tossed it back into the fire. “He’s a talkative young thing.”

She muttered under her breath. “That little brat. I’ll have to _remind_ him of what happens when he doesn’t keep his mouth shut.”

“A talking-to from Mama Vex! I don’t envy him.”

She snorted and resumed sharpening her weapon. “You’re right. We’re the ones in charge. And there’s a reason for that. Because we’re the ones who know how to keep the Guild operating, and how to keep everyone _within_ the Guild safe.”

“Everyone except Karliah.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. So I suggest you stop talking.”

“She was murdered, wasn’t she? That’s why you’re all so jumpy. That’s why you don’t trust me.”

I watched as Vex’s lips slowly became thin little lines, her right hand squeezing around the hilt of her dagger. Her face was white in the low light. She was one of the few people I’d ever met whose rage caused her to pale instead of flush red.

“I didn’t have anything to do with that,” I said, surprised at my own efforts to lessen the sudden tension. “Look, I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on here. There’s something fishy going on with you all, and you obviously know it. What I don’t understand, though, is why something like that could happen to the Guild, and yet you, Brynjolf, and the others still freely take requests from someone like Maven Black-Briar without even second guessing her motives. You don’t even care to know what it is she has you running after.”

“She’s the Guild’s most important patron. Without her, we fall back into ruin.”

“I don’t really believe that. And I don’t think you do, either.”

“You didn’t see us five years ago. We were a goddamned laughing stock. Maven’s support was the only reason we didn’t go under completely.”

“And now? All those merchants down at the Flagon, all those people working for you. The ability to reach across Skyrim itself and convince people like Gulum-Ei to do your bidding.” I stared at her, daring her to meet my eyes again. “You’re going to tell me that’s all Maven Black-Briar’s doing? That without her you’re nothing?”

She was silent for a while, then: “I can’t talk about this. It’s not for me to discuss.”

“Then who _can_ I talk to? Or are you all so far beneath her manicured thumb that you can’t find it within yourself to speak a word against her?”

“Talk to your boyfriend,” she sneered. “He has a soft spot for you anyway. Otherwise, drop it or I shove this dagger between your eyes while you sleep tonight.”

I held my hands up, successfully dropping the topic. The evening passed tenser than ever, and we didn’t say another word to one another before bedding down for the night.

* * *

A light boot to the hip pulled me abruptly from my sleep the following morning. I peered up at Vex, who stared back down with the same look old Grelod the Kind used to wear when staring down her young charges.

“Rise and shine, Sunshine,” she said. “We’re heading out.”

I rubbed my eyes and sat up, yawning. The doors to the ruins had been opened a crack, but even so, there was still barely any light peeping through. The sun had not yet peeked over the mountain tops.

I dressed quickly, tying my hair back in a sloppier than usual bun. I understood. We were definitely being followed from Windhelm, and if we didn’t get an earlier than normal start and push the horses hard, we might very well be caught before reaching Riften. And although I could probably shoot a man down from his horse so long as I could see him with my own eyes, I was always reluctant to kill in such a cold-blooded fashion. Once our pursuers got close enough to talk, if they proved unwilling to negotiate, Vex and I would’ve both been in trouble. We were neither of us experts in close combat. And depending on how many were following us, that could’ve been a problem.

But did she really have to kick me awake? I mean, okay, I’d asked some sensitive questions last night. But I really thought we’d be beyond physical assault by now.

Thanks to our grueling pace, we were nearing Riften’s gates not two hours after noon. There was a caravan of Khajiit traders just outside the city, though I was careful to navigate around them. If Vex noticed, she didn’t say.

At the stables, we both dismounted and began relieving our horses of their gear. There was a discreet exchange of coins between Vex and the stable worker, Shadr, before the old gelding was led off. I hoped the poor thing would be allowed a few hours rest here before being trotted back to his no doubt oblivious owner.

I gave Neve one last pat on the cheek before promising her quite the array of fruit from the market tomorrow morning. I noticed her ears pricking forward and turned around, raising my eyebrows at Vex. She was in her usual stance, leaning against a post, arms crossed over her chest, bored look on her face.

“You two finished?” she asked.

“We were going to start braiding one another’s hair, but I suppose we’ll forgo that for now.”

She snorted. I like to think the merest blip of a smile flashed across her face, too.

She straightened. “Look, where you go from here is your call. Personally, I don’t care one way or the other. But we keep our word, and Brynjolf’s offer still stands.”

“I’d hardly call it an offer. More like a threat. Oh, a nice threat, but a threat nonetheless.”

“Blackmail isn’t really a threat. You’re still being given a choice.”

I chuckled. “What a unique perspective you all seem to have.”

“Anyway, if you decide to stay, you’re to head to the Bee and Barb. One of us will meet you there later tonight.”

“Wonderful! I was just thinking my head didn’t hurt enough lately.”

Her eyes narrowed. “For _dinner_ , asshole. In the meantime, I’ve got to deliver the package.” She hesitated before leaving, seeming to consider something. “I’ll be sure to tell our client how much you helped in the retrieval of the object in question.”

I raised an eyebrow again. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather my name _not_ be bandied about, especially in the presence of _such a client_.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself. But trust me. She probably already knows everything about you.”

She finally turned then and left me with that cheerful thought. I heartily confess to a chill running down the back of my spine at those parting words. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t seek the spotlight. I know, I know. The whole Ulfric thing, right? But that wasn’t for attention, believe me. Do you ever find yourself in a particular situation, not quite sure how you got there? That was me for the past few years, basically. I mean, technically, _yes_ , I knew how I’d physically gotten there. I’ll never forget climbing up the walls of the Palace of the Kings, the icy wind battering me from all angles. Those damned hooks I’d bought off that shady roadside traveler had proven surprisingly sturdy—sharp, too, once I’d worked at the edges enough—but that didn’t mean I didn’t immediately regret my decision to sneak into the jarl’s private chambers by the time I was halfway up there. Honestly, spur of the moment is just kind of how I live my life. You can plan all you want—and I do, when it matters—but ultimately it’s being quick on your feet in the moment itself that ends up saving you, every time.

Anyway, yes. I don’t like being known by powerful people. Why are they so powerful in the first place?—that’s what you have to ask yourself. It usually isn’t through their incredible generosity of spirit. The simple fact of the matter is, powerful people use other people to get where they are. And I’ve no desire to be used, not by anyone, not ever.

Nevertheless, several hours later saw me sitting at the Bee and Barb, nursing one of Talen-Jei’s most recent inventions.

“Well,” he asked, pausing by my table, a full tray of empties in his right hand, “What do you think?”

“Delicious as usual.” I held up my glass in salute. “Could probably use a little less lime, you know, for the general public, but I like the tartness myself.”

“Oh, it’s meant to be a bit tart,” he said, clearly pleased with my review. “I’m going to call it _Keerava’s Sweet Smile_ ,” he added with a proud look in his eyes.

I did my best not to choke on the sip I was currently taking. “That’s, ah, very romantic,” I managed to say.

“It is, isn’t it? I just hope she thinks so, too.”

I watched the poor man go, marveling at the power of love. Five years married now with a bundle of kids and he’s still a slave to her whims. O Mara, how utterly terrifying is your sweet regard.

“Might want to go easy on the drinking this time.”

I looked up at the sound of that familiar, lilting voice. Brynjolf smiled down at me before gesturing at the other chair. “May I?”

I shrugged. “May as well.”

So not what I meant to say. _So_ not.

He just chuckled a little though before taking a seat.

“Well,” he said, leaning forward and clasping his hands before him, “I’m glad to see my faith in you appears to have paid off. Vex said you handled yourself admirably.”

“Did she.”

He laughed. “Don’t let her sharp tongue get to you, lad. She’s a good lass, for all she doesn’t go out of her way to make friends. But she put in a good word for you. Said she’d be willing to trust her back to you in the future, should it come to that.” He tilted his head slightly, a curious glint in his eyes. “High praise from our little Vex.”

“I suppose in that case I ought to take it. Did she tell you any of the details of our little escapade.”

“No, not yet.” He paused, a faint smile coming to his face. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone and fallen in love with her, lad.”

For the second time that evening, I nearly choked on my drink. “By the Nine!” I said, coughing. “Why would you even suggest such a thing!”

Brynjolf laughed, even as he leaned forward to pat me helpfully on the back. “I had to ask! You looked so glum and guarded. And she _is_ beautiful, our Vex. Inside and out. But I can see from your eyes you’ll have to take my word on that one for now.”

I coughed one last time before managing, “Far be it… from me… to insult a lady.”

“Ever the gentleman, eh?” He sat back, grin still playing on his lips. “You know, it’s funny. I like you more than I thought I would. I admit that doesn’t often happen.”

Oh dear. One glass of slightly tart liqueur was not enough on which to blame the sudden warmth I felt creeping up my face. I cleared my throat.

“I, ah, suppose I should be honored.”

“I don’t know that I’d rate my regard so highly, but I’ll leave that to you. Well.” His smile faded, and I could tell we were switching to business. “What do you think? I think you’d be turning your back on a fine operation here if you chose to leave us. We could certainly really use someone like you.” He paused, considering. “You fit in well, you know. People like you.”

“You like me,” I said, a rather reckless feeling coming over me. Shit, I was flirting.

A smile twitched at the corners of his lips again. “We’ve established that much, I think. But yes, I do. And so do the others.”

“Even Niruin?”

The smile faded again.

“Look,” he said after a while, his eyes dropping briefly, “We’ve our share of a sordid past, lad. Some of us are more forgiving, more trusting… I’m not sure quite how to put it. But some of us have our guard up more than usual. I hope you understand it has nothing to do with you personally.”

“I suppose it has more to do with Karliah.”

I was taking a gamble, but, well, when did I not.

He didn’t shut down like Vex. But he looked thoughtful now, almost as if he were reevaluating me, and not in a good way. I’m rather ashamed of the panic that took flight in my breast.

“You’re a clever one,” he admitted after a while. “Yes, Karliah. She was one of us—our leader, in fact. She was killed not too long ago.”

“And you don’t know who did it,” I guessed.

He nodded. “That’s pretty much the rub of it, yes. Like I said, it has nothing to do with you. But some of the others are skittish because of it, more wary of outsiders. To be honest, I assumed Vex would be the hardest to convince. That’s why I assigned her to work with you. But Niruin’s continued suspicions have surprised me.” He looked uncomfortable before admitting: “To tell the truth, he’s still opposed to your joining up.”

I was silent for a moment. So I’d been right. They must’ve had a leak, a mole—someone had betrayed them, and Karliah was the victim. If she’d died falling into the river or off the cliff side their reactions would’ve been different. But Vex, Niruin, some of the others—they knew that wasn’t the case.

Hell, obviously Brynjolf knew that wasn’t the case either. But for some reason he trusted me.

“I guess,” I said after a while, slowly, “I’ll have to show him that I really can be trusted.”

I looked at Brynjolf before holding out my hand.

His eyes widened slightly, a grin slowly returning to his face.

“Wonderful!” he said, taking my hand and shaking it warmly. “Welcome aboard.” He sat back and grinned at me. “Now. Shall I buy you dinner? I’m sure you’re sick to death of travel rations.”

I was. And I was also far too taken with the implications of the sentence “ _Shall I buy you dinner_.” Don’t be a fool, I told myself. But in many ways, I was already in way too deep to get out now.

I couldn’t help feeling as if I’d just simultaneously made the best and worst decision of my life.


	6. Be careful what you wish for

I fell into working for the Guild as if I’d done so all my life. Days turned into weeks, and gradually I began to realize that I’d as much found a home here as I’d ever found anywhere else. I don’t know if they all fully trusted me—it was clearly too difficult for some to let their guard down so readily. But they liked me. And, most shockingly, I liked them.

I worked the most with Vex and Sapphire. We were all similar in technique, experience, and stature. We worked break-ins, mostly, anything that required maneuvering in small spaces and being as quiet and patient about it as possible. Vex helped me with my lock-picking skills, and Sapphire helped me try to develop my rather piss poor close combat skills. I would never be as good with a sword as she was, but I didn’t have to depend on my bow, especially if things came to a head in tight corners. I found myself caring for and sharpening my daggers as much as some of the others now.

In turn, I helped the others with shooting. Niruin was a more than competent bowman but was apparently more than a little miserly about it. I obviously had no such qualms. Besides, I like helping people.

Sapphire was a huge flirt, I was learning. She’d learn purposefully into me when working on her stance, or she’d tease me or find ways to touch me. For the first time, though, I found myself not really wanting to reciprocate. Rune, too, I think was developing a bit of a crush. He somehow managed to sit beside me every time I chose to have lunch at the Flagon. By the Nine how the man could talk! He was younger than me, and spoke with the sort of exuberance that only youth could provide. A couple times he had hesitantly suggested dinner at the Bee and Barb, or maybe going hunting together overnight just outside the city. I deflected these as gently and deftly as I could.

Why, I’m not sure. She was beautiful, and he was cute. I had a private room and could indulge myself thinking about either of them, or any of the others. But I remained staunchly unattached. Stubbornly unattached, I suppose some would say.

“I don’t get it,” said Sapphire, panting lightly. We were in the practice yard, working on my technique. “You’re supposed to be this huge...” She lunged without warning, and I just managed to parry. “Well, you know.”

“You people need to make up your minds,” I said, swinging back. “Either I’m a super easy slut who fucks anything that moves, or I’m the romantic fool who shacked up with the High King.”

She met my wild swings with ease, causing me to grunt with frustration.

“Couldn’t you be both?”

She countered; I panted to keep up.

“In theory,” I returned, “Though it hurts my feelings that you think I could.”

We finally paused; she smirked and tossed the practice sword aside, the metal clanging against the stone floor. Meanwhile I had to resist the urge to drop to my knees and gasp for breath; I settled for merely planting my hands on my knees and bending over, panting as I watched the sweat drip off the tip of my nose.

“Maybe he just doesn’t think you’re pretty,” said Vex without looking up. She was sitting nearby, polishing the steel of her own weapons and testing the edges.

Sapphire laughed, wiping her face down with a towel before tossing one to me. “Maybe so. Do you think I’m pretty, Cal?”

“Ravishing,” I said. I gave up pretending every muscle in my body wasn’t screaming in protest and just sat down on the ground. Now it became a struggle not to just lie back all the way and close my eyes.

“Good answer. So what’s the problem then? Don’t like women?”

“I love women. Women are amazing. I wish I were a woman.” I closed my eyes, just for a moment. Then, because I’m not really one to struggle against my basest desires, I lay all the way back against the cold floor. The scattered old hay scratched through my loose practice shirt.

Sapphire laughed, and I heard her going to pick up both practice swords, replacing them on the rack.

“Well,” said Vex. “Should I be the one to say it or will you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said. I was so tired. I couldn’t believe I thought I was actually in shape before this.

“He’s in love with Brynjolf.”

My eyes popped open.

“What?” I said.

“What??” said Sapphire.

I sat up, ignoring her sudden guffawing.

“What the hell, Vex? You can’t go around saying shit like that! I have a reputation!”

“You know I don’t give a shit about your reputation. Besides, isn’t that what we’re talking about? You not living up to your own ideal. And it’s because you’re completely in love with—

“We’re done with this conversation!” I said, raising my voice above hers and getting quickly to my aching feet. Sapphire was laughing harder now.

“I can’t believe it!” she said, wiping at her eyes. “Is it true?”

“Yes—

“I’M LEAVING NOW,” I said, heading towards the tunnel that led out of the arena. Now they were both laughing, the echoes of their voices following me as I left.

“Wow, he was so mad!”

“I know. It’s kind of cute.”

I hated them both in that moment. Utterly despised them.

* * *

Don’t think that throughout this entire _get to know your new friends at the Thieves Guild_ kumbaya period of my life that I had forgotten about that little black box or Maven Black-Briar. I hadn’t.

Presumably it had been returned to her, and she had expressed her gratitude by—I hadn’t the slightest clue. Despite becoming friends with the senior members of the Guild, they none of them condescended to share their secrets with me. I was, in essence, something of a pet student: I spent more time with them than anyone else, but I wasn’t _one_ of them. This had little to do with my actual skill or even my status as a relative newcomer—I vastly outmatched any of the other petty thieves who wandered the underground market, turned jobs for Vex or Delvin, or crowded around at the Flagon. It was more a matter of trust. Yes, even after nearly a month, they still didn’t trust me.

That grated. Not for personal reasons, but because I can’t stand not being in the know. Curiosity will be the death of me some day, but that can’t be all that surprising, considering my chosen occupation. And to be honest, I didn’t like the thought of a woman like Maven Black-Briar controlling the lives of these people I’d really come to like. I could admit it: they were my friends. Vex, Sapphire, Niruin, Brynjolf, the others—they didn’t deserve to be at the beck and call of some powerful entity. Didn’t that defy the whole purpose of being a thief?

In addition to the usual jobs and opportunities, I would hear every now and then of a “special” mission one of the others had been given. They’d disappear for a few days, only to return again, unscathed but silent. These jobs I only knew were at the behest of the Guild’s greatest patron. And it gnawed at me, incessantly.

I needed to know what was in that black box. It was the only so-called _special_ job I’d been allowed to be a part of, so it was the only one I knew anything about.

And after weeks of thinking and planning I believed I was finally going to get my opportunity.

* * *

Independence Day—the holiday previously known as Emperor’s Day, which, not surprisingly, had never really caught on here in Skyrim. I remember Ulfric’s counselors talking about rebranding the holiday a while back, yet another part of their _Make Everyone Love Ulfric_ master plan. I think even back then I’d had an inkling that this plan would eventually lead to my own dismissal. But you know what they say. The past always seems clearer in the future.

Anyway, Emperor’s Day—sorry, Independence Day—had rather caught on here in Riften. During the day shops offered steep discounts and various performers lined the streets. Then just as the sun was going down, the outdoor market closed up early and the city began preparing for a night of revelry. I’d never been in Riften during that time so I admit to being a little curious.

Surprisingly, the event was highly anticipated throughout the Guild. At first I thought they might be eager for the opportunity an entire city drunk on festivities presented. But Niruin informed me that the guards were extra cautious on Independence Day (or Night, rather) and that only neophytes tried to exercise their craft that particular evening. No, apparently it was simply seen as a sort of vacation, a chance to get out of the Flagon and mingle topside. It probably didn’t hurt that costumes and masks were heavily encouraged among participants.

Which made sense. Riften was Riften after all. Caution, distrust, and extortion were in the air, due in no small part to the cheerful company I had recently begun to keep. I suspect the holiday itself had assumed the old form of Saturalia for the denizens of Riften. I gathered that more than one shopkeeper worried about their daughters’, er, shucking off of their moral proclivities on this fateful night, and whether there’d be another mouth for the family to feed nine months from now.

Naturally, I intended to attend the festivities along with all the others. I did have something in mind, something I had been sitting on for a few weeks at least, and for which I’d done extensive planning. But it would have to keep. For now, there was eating, drinking, and, of course, dancing.

“Are you ready?” asked Niruin, his mild voice disturbing me from my thoughts. I turned around from the small mirror I’d propped up in my room and looked at the man now standing in my doorway.

“You look nice,” I said, “Who knew you cleaned up so pretty!”

Most people would bristle at being teased like that, but not Niruin.

“Well I wasn’t always a thief, you know. I suppose there are some habits one never really forgets.”

I reached for the mask on my little side table and paused to check my reflection out in the mirror one last time. Not so bad, if I did say so myself. The new clothes I’d purchased for the occasion—yes, I did purchase them; I don’t often steal from hard-working folk if it can be helped—I mean, usually—looked well enough on me, the deep red color of the material just a shade darker than my hair.

But more importantly, it would blend in well in the dark.

“That’s right,” I said, as we headed out together, “You were quite the somebody once.”

“Once, yes. Now I suppose I am nobody.”

“Much healthier in my experience being a nobody, so I wouldn’t go feeling too sorry for yourself.”

“Oh, I’m not. I’m quite happy here.”

That was the Niruin equivalent of warm affection. Sometimes I amused myself imagining what he must be like in bed. _This is lovely_ , he would say. _But are you nearly finished? I’m a little hungry._

I chewed the inside of my cheek so as to prevent the smile from spreading onto my face. “Where are the girls?” I asked. Vex, Sapphire, and Tonila were supposed to join us. “And the others?”

“Vex and Sapphire said they’ll meet us at the festival. Tonila and Vekel are spending the night together, apparently. The others will all be there at some point, I’m sure.” He cast me a little look. “Brynjolf included.”

I groaned. “Ysmir’s Beard, not you, too!” I heaved a melodramatic sigh. “I had high hopes for you, Niruin. You’ve let me down.”

He frowned, and I wondered if for once I’d actually gotten to him.

“I’m not against it, you know,” he said after a moment. “Brynjolf’s taken on a lot since Karliah’s passing. He could use the distraction.”

Now it was my turn to be offended. The fact that he assumed I might be little more than a “distraction” for the Guild’s illustrious leader really rankled me for some reason. Maybe it sort of reminded me of the kind of life I’d been leading for the past few years. Anyone who knew what I’d been knew me—at least in their mind—as, at best, Ulfric’s lover. In many ways the property of another man. I suspect our difference in race contributed to that to some degree, as did our own individual reputations. Ulfric was a known skirt- (and occasional trouser-) chaser. As for me, everybody knew—or thought they knew—that I hadn’t a faithful bone in my body.

But also of interest was that first casual mention of the infamous Karliah. No other Guild member had yet uttered her name around me, save that time back at the tavern when I’d brought her up to Brynjolf.

I was pleased. Maybe we were finally getting somewhere. Maybe they were all starting to trust me.

“Well, well, Niruin,” I said, keeping my voice light as I began tying the mask over my eyes, “I’d never take you for a romantic! That’s rather delightful.”

He glanced at me but didn’t respond. I suppose he was starting to catch on to my piss poor attempts at deflection. Vex had him beaten on that by a couple of months, but still, it was in itself impressive. Most people who’d known me for years hadn’t a clue when I was bullshitting them. One of my many talents, I suppose.

We arrived topside, both our masks now firmly in place, the early evening fog rolling in from the lake disguising our exit. We climbed the wooden steps to ground level, and I imagine my face must have quite lit up at the festivities before me. It was truly Riften as I’d never seen her before. Even the guards were smiling and laughing. They were the only ones who remained unmasked; otherwise everyone from the tiniest child to the eldest grandmother moved about in joyful faux obscurity. Of course, there were many I truly didn’t recognize, and I imagine many of the masks had been worked on all year, intricately carved out and inlaid with jewels (for the highborn folk), feathers, and other wondrous baubles. Still, surely most would know their most intimate friends and family members, mask or no mask. It simply added to the overall excitement, I suppose.

Of course, it also made it possible for senior members of the Guild to move about with relative obscurity. It seems Delvin, Vex, and Brynjolf in particular had finally come to at least be rumored to be attached with the Guild. (Though of course some already knew outright —particularly those shop owners whose monthly fees kept us up and running.) When the senior members were recognized, they were often served with reluctance, and city guards watched them like hawks. And with good reason, I’m sure. Many of the businesses in Riften owed debts to the Guild.

So, not surprisingly, I rarely saw them up here. Brynjolf I had only seen topside twice, both times we’d met in the Bee and Barb. Usually it was during the evening, and they were always wearing dark clothing and employed hoods to pull over their eyes—not shady at all, right? But then that was reason enough for most folk to leave them to themselves, so I suppose it accomplished what it was meant to accomplish.

But not to today. Today Vex and Sapphire were walking towards us with grins on their faces, their eyes peeping out from behind their masks bright with good cheer and, I suspect, a healthy amount of alcohol.

“Look at these two handsome lads!” said Sapphire, slapping me heartily on the back. “It’s about time you both joined us!”

“I see you’ve gotten ahead of us in more ways than one,” I said, eyeing the tankard she was holding in her free hand. She laughed, causing some of it to slosh around a bit.

“You’re damned right we did,” said Vex. “If we’d waited for you two we wouldn’t have been drunk until midnight.”

Both were quite handsomely dressed; Sapphire wore a dark blue tunic which fell well past her hips and flattered her figure quite nicely. Her boots and trousers were similarly fine; her boots, in fact, even had a slight heel to them—some noblewoman would be missing those, I imagined with amusement. Vex, too, had surprisingly enough eschewed her usual leathers for a fine pair of trousers and a corseted top, one I imagine Sapphire had to have picked out for her, let alone helped her lace up. She seemed relaxed though, even happy. I’d never accuse her of losing her general sharpness, but she was, at the moment, actually smiling. That pretty much said it all.

“Shall we get something to eat?” asked Niruin. “I’m a little peckish.”

I had to bite my cheek again, remembering my earlier amusement. Seriously, try to imagine someone lying back, busty barmaid bouncing away on top of them, and saying, _I’m a little peckish_. Not possible, you say? Okay, now picture that same someone as Niruin. There you go. I mean I’m not wrong.

We began weaving through the crowd, following our noses to the array of food stands which had been set up along the perimeter of the area. Along the way we ran into a few more guild members, including Rune, Cynric, and Thrynn. There were also a couple of women I didn’t recognize and whom I initially mistook as, shall we say, _guests_ of Thrynn and Cynric, but no, they were apparently new members. Though unless I was mistaken the four of them would definitely be getting more intimately acquainted before the night’s end, if the blatant flirting and consistent string of playfully drunken innuendos were anything to judge by.

I purchased an absurdly large sausage on a stick, chiefly because I knew it would illicit some amusing remarks from my companions. I wasn’t disappointed, neither by the comments nor the sausage itself. It was so hot as to burn the inside of my mouth, but I couldn’t seem to care. I ate it so fast I worried I was going to be sick. And no way was I going to get too sick to dance tonight.

The center city courtyard stood bare of its usual vendor stands; these had been disassembled and pushed aside so that more room could be had for dancing. Paper lanterns had been strung, and candles were everywhere; a band sat in one corner and played progressively sloppier songs before they were relieved by another group who made quick work of their own mugs in hand before sitting down behind their instruments.

I like dancing. No, let me rephrase that. I _love_ dancing. Maybe it’s the blood of my mother’s people running through my veins—a small clan which had left Valenwood some 150 years ago—but whatever the case, I simply cannot resist the temptation of a good beat. Now I don’t mean to say I leap and spin at every little tavern song that passes through my ears like some drooling half-wit, but when it’s appropriate, I’ll inevitably be at the center of any dancefloor. This used to cause quite a bit of friction between Ulfric and myself, as I was known to dance the night away with a whole host of different partners during celebratory feasts and the like. _Perhaps if Lord High And Mighty weren’t so fucking full of himself he’d get down here and dance with me_ , I’d once said. Shockingly, that hadn’t gotten him off his feet. But hey, tit for tat. I knew for a fact he’d fucked a barmaid only a few nights previous to that one, so I’d been feeling prickly. Plus I knew I could then probably count on some pretty angry hate-sex at the end of the night, which was always a win/win in my book.

So once the others had had a few drinks to wash their dinners down, I pulled one of the new girls away from the pack and onto the dancefloor. Cynric’s jealous little shout from behind only spurred me on; I grinned and wrapped my arms around my partner before we began spinning about with the rest. I lifted her higher than most, spun her around until she squealed with laughter, and held her close enough to bring a blush to her cheeks. Her name was Sygrif, I learned, and she’d only been working officially for the Guild for the past week.

“Is it true what everyone says?” she asked, laughing and gasping for breath as I lifted her up and plopped her deftly back down again.

“About what?” I said. “How handsome I am? How charming? How clever?”

She laughed again. “All of those things! And—

“And?” I spun her around so fast I almost made myself dizzy.

“That you were lover to the High King!”

“Oh _that_.” I looped my elbow with hers and pulled her breathlessly through the rest of the routine. “Can’t say that I remember, to be honest. I mean, I’ve had oh so _many_ lovers of late.”

I pulled her close then, our noses almost touching, and she blushed and laughed again. The dance came to an end, and we wove our way through the other panting dancers. Before Cynric could level the evil eye at me I grabbed the other girl, and so the rest of my evening went.

I danced mostly with women, though at least two men asked for a turn, and I readily complied. One was, I believe, the blacksmith’s latest apprentice, and the other worked down at the docks. Had I not had plans for later that night I had little doubt I’d have persuaded Dock Boy to meet me afterward out at the—well, docks. At least I told myself that. He was marginally handsome, and very strong, and his hands on my hips were very, very large.

I shocked myself by asking for and receiving a dance with Vex. I had noticed her dancing twice, once with Niruin, and once with, of all people, Talen-Jei. Judging from the myriad longing looks being aimed in her direction, I suspect she’d been the target of many an anxious potential partner, but that by now most knew—for their own personal safety—not to bother even asking. But, well, you know me. Show me a challenge that I won’t back away from.

In truth I didn’t expect her to say no. I’m pretty sure I had her number at this point. Vex did everything in life on her own terms—everything. I’d yet to discover if she had a lover or had ever had a lover. I didn’t even know if she was into that sort of thing. And I wasn’t meant to know. Once she knew I’d figured that out, then I automatically qualified as an acceptable dance partner.

She speared me with one of her telltale looks as she let me lead her away from the others. “How can you be practically dead after 30 minutes of practice, yet after two hours of dancing you’re barely out of breath?”

“Muscle memory, my dear lady, muscle memory. My feet know where I’m going before I do!” I turned to face her, resting one hand oh so lightly on her hip. “Plus you notice I haven’t asked Sapphire for a dance.” I feigned a shudder.

She snorted. “I think she’s busy fucking that dockworker you were dancing with earlier anyway.”

My mouth fell open before I could stop myself. “No!! You’re lying!”

She just smirked. The music started, and we began to move with the rest.

She wasn’t a very good dancer. On the one hand, this wasn’t surprising as I imagine she didn’t get much practice. On the other hand, someone that I knew for a fact could move with such deadly and precise precision ought to have been able to keep to the rhythm of a beat. But alas. It was a struggle not to step on her toes at every turn.

I caught her staring at me, her eyes slightly narrowed—not the usual flushed anticipatory look I’m used to inspiring in my dance partners, I’ll admit.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re up to something,” she said. She stumbled and cursed under her breath, her eyes dropping briefly to her own feet.

I whirled her in time to the music. “What makes you think that?”

“Because you’re distracted.”

I gave a little hum. “Oh? You’re very pretty, Vex, but not _that_ pretty, you know.”

She made a face. “Asshole. What I mean is, you haven’t seemed to notice that Brynjolf has been here for the past couple of dances, and knowing you, that’s a little weird.”

Okay, don’t laugh, but I almost dropped her. Actually, never mind, you can totally laugh. It was fucking pathetic.

“Oh?” I finally managed, going for casual disinterest. Except it came out approximately seventeen octaves too high.

She snorted. “You’re trying not to look for him right now, aren’t you.” She shook her head. “You really _have_ got it bad, haven’t you?”

She had my number, too, damn her. I cleared my throat, almost stumbling as I led her through another little turn.

“Are you going to ask him to dance?” she asked. The smug amusement in her voice honestly made me want to kick her.

“Maybe,” I said.

“Liar.”

I puffed out a little breath. “Oh, so I’m a liar now! Add that to my list of incurable faults.”

“Seriously. It’s a pretty long list.”

I snorted; I couldn’t help myself. She hated me so much she actually loved me.

The song was nearly finished, and I’m really ashamed of how fast my heart was beating. Because, you know, we were going to go back over there, and apparently he was there, too, and Vex was going to smirk at me and probably say something embarrassing, and Ysmir’s beard, since when do _I_ embarrass so easily?

The music finally stopped, and so did we, pausing to give each other the customary little bow afterward, all the couples around us doing the same. The sound of laughter and spirited voices immediately picked up, as people flirted and chit-chatted with one another, suggesting another spin about the floor, or perhaps a drink, or meeting up with friends or switching partners or what have you.

“You should ask him,” said Vex.

“I don’t think so,” I said.

I’m not sure why I said that. Except maybe I do know. Because I’d been through this before. People put butterflies in your belly, then before you know it, they’re ripping all the wings off. And partially dead wingless butterflies crawling around inside you is not a good feeling, believe me.

“Hmm,” said Vex, her eyes shifting to something over my shoulder.

I turned around. “What?”

There was Brynjolf, smiling at us both as he approached. He wore a mask like everyone else, though his wasn’t so ornamental as most. I imagined he was too busy to bother constructing anything truly ornate; he was certainly the guild member I’d seen the least of these past few months. And yet every time I did see him, he rarely failed to spare me a warm smile and a friendly little pat on the shoulder. I liked to imagine his hand sometimes lingered there longer than it ought to have.

Plus, you know, he said he liked me. Yay.

“Aren’t you a pretty pair?” he said. “Do you know, Vex, I once thought him in love with you. You should’ve seen the look on his face.”

Vex snorted.

“Was it like that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Hmm. No, I’d say that’s more embarrassment. Maybe a hint of annoyance.” He gave me a little wink.

Mara bless me, I couldn’t think of a damned thing to say. I just stood there like an imbecile, blinking back at the both of them.

Another little grin twitched at the corners of Brynjolf’s mouth. “Cat got your tongue, lad?”

If I could murder Vex with my eyes she’d have been a stone cold corpse at the moment. Though I suppose, to her credit, the fact that she was trying so hard NOT to laugh was a kindness in and of itself.

“Not at all,” I finally said. The dancefloor was beginning to fill up again, so we probably needed to move. “Should we…?”

He grinned, the cheeky bastard. “I thought you’d never ask,” he said, and then he took my hand.

_He took my hand._

I blinked.

“You’re holding my hand,” I said.

Off in the distance, I heard Vex finally burst out laughing.

Now Brynjolf looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“That I am,” he said. He gave Vex a graceful little bow. “If you’ll excuse us.”

She grinned, returning it. “By all means.”

The music began. The dance was slower, which was probably a good thing, because my legs suddenly felt as wobbly as a fawn’s. But it also meant there wouldn’t be much in the way of breathless spinning and dipping and holding, which I’m not sure I would’ve been able to handle at that point.

We began standing shoulder to shoulder, me facing one direction, him the other, our hands lightly linked between us. There was very minimal touching, and we moved in a slow circle in time to the rather pretty music, a singer accompanying the instruments this time. When we turned to switch directions and hands, his fingers traced along the bottom of my palm, and I’m honestly not lying when I say it made me blush like a milkmaid.

“I’m leaving tonight,” he said after a while. For the first minute or so he’d simply watched me, and I could feel my face getting progressively warmer. Even though I tended to vomit words every time I tried to speak to him, it was still preferable to being stared at so thoughtfully.

“Oh?” I said. That wasn’t unusual. He was often gone, as were all the senior members, though never all at once.

“Yes. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone. I’m afraid it’s just me, too.” He quirked a little smile. “I suspect I may get lonely.”

“Maybe you should bring a dog,” I said.

Yes, I really said that. _MAYBE YOU SHOULD BRING A DOG._

He laughed. “An interesting suggestion.” He tilted his head, as though pretending to consider it. “But I think it might get in the way of the task at hand.”

“I suppose it would.”

We turned again; I thought the song couldn’t last much longer. Either that or some excessively mischievous daedric prince had figured out a way to stop time just to fuck with me and prolong my suffering.

“You’ve been enjoying yourself these past few weeks. I’ve noticed you making friends with the others.” He seemed earnest now. I admit the expression rather tugged at my heart.

“Oh, they put up with me, I suppose. It helps to realize that every thinly veiled insult is actually a profession of true love.”

He laughed again, and I gave myself a silent pat on the back for drawing it out of him. Yes, I was that pitiful.

“You have to promise to watch over them while I’m gone.” His eyes held mine, and he seemed serious again. “Don’t let the power go to Delvin’s head, and don’t let Vex shut herself off from the others too much.”

“That’s a little maudlin, if you don’t mind my saying. You sound like you’re planning your own funeral.”

He quirked a smile. “I suppose I’m just happy to see my faith in you has been fully realized.”

His words made me grow a bit cold for some reason. Vex had accused me of being a liar, which seems a silly thing for one thief to accuse another. Of course we all lied. It was part of our profession. But there are some lies you hold close to your heart—and some you keep because you think if you opened your mouth and let out the truth it would raze you utterly to the ground.

The dance ended. My expression must have changed because he was giving me a rather quizzical look. He was also still holding my hand.

“Have I upset you?” he asked. He seemed genuinely concerned.

I started and smiled.

“No,” I said.

Then, with great reluctance, I pulled back my hand.

He looked thoughtful again, his hand falling gently back to his side. I thought that was the end of it. Okay, so I obviously couldn’t really hide how I felt. But I figured I’d made it clear that this was as far as it went. That despite the fact that I clearly carried a torch for the guy, we were going to remain colleagues, for whatever unspecified reason—and no, I wasn’t going to tell him why.

But, evidently I was wrong.

After an apparent moment’s thought, he reached for my hand again, the gesture startling me so that I let him take it. I watched with bemusement as he brought both our hands up. And I felt my face promptly explode as he pressed a kiss to the back of my hand.

He grinned, releasing my hand again. “Well, good-bye. I’m afraid I’m going to be gone for quite a while. I’m counting on you to keep the others in line.” He tilted his head again, giving me yet another playful little wink. “You’ll promise to behave while I’m gone, won’t you?”

I watched him go, only marginally aware of the fact that my mouth was hanging semi-open. It didn’t take long for him to disappear into the crowd. Hell, it was sort of his specialty—all our specialties.

The sound of feminine giggling snapped me out of my daze. I turned to glare at a couple of young women who had clearly been enjoying the show. I’d even danced with both of them earlier, the hypocritical little harpies.

“Oh, go on and laugh,” I said, and so they did, harder, and because I’m a good spirit, I only rolled my eyes and tried not to smile at myself as I finally exited the dancefloor.

And into the waiting embrace of the most awful people in the world.

“You bloody dog!” said Cynric, pounding me on the back so hard I almost bent over.

“I knew you could do it!” said Sapphire, apparently back from her tête-à-tête with Dock Boy.

“How about that!” said Delvin, chortling—when he’d arrived I had no idea. “Brynjolf in love! Never thought I’d see the day!”

“In _love_!?” I repeated, almost choking on my own words.

“Oh, get off your high horse and accept the fact that you’ve won,” said Vex, not sounding nearly as cynical as she probably hoped. “Seriously, I’ve never even seen him like this. I’m actually worried about him.”

“Indeed,” said Niruin, whose words were now slightly slurring, even though he still looked as bored with the world around him as he always did. “If his concentration should slip while on the job…”

“That’s right,” I said, “He said he’s leaving tonight. Would that be for a job for—er, You-Know-Who?”

Sapphire looped an arm around my shoulders. “Unfortunately, the answer to THAT question is the same as always, stud. None of your business. Now!” She raised her sloshing tankard to the sky. “Let’s get this man a drink!”

It was now well past midnight. I’d fairly danced the night away, and a good portion of the populace, especially those with families, had already turned in for the night. The truly raucous crowd, however, were just getting started.

But despite everything that had happened, I still had plans for the night. I was careful not to drink too much. Luckily the others were so well into their cups that they hardly noticed. I wasn’t too surprised when Delvin and Sapphire were the last to stumble back down to the lower levels. I made as if to follow them, but said I needed to take a piss first and would join them both shortly. Delvin waved a hand back at me without looking up.

I still had a bit of time to kill, so I made my way to the Bee and Barb. There I chatted with a few remaining late night revelers. Keerava had long since gone to bed with the little ones, and Talen-Jei lay slumped over the bar, snoring lightly. After a while, I quietly slipped back outside and made my way towards the back north end of the city, discarding my mask on the way there.

This was supposed to be the unbreakable night—any veteran thief knew well to avoid working a job tonight, when city guards were at their most vigilant. This, at least, is what I had been told. But all so-called veteran thieves would by default be members of the Thieves Guild. And there was one house in Riften that would never, ever be robbed by the members of the Thieves Guild.

I stood for a second in the chilly silence, staring up at the dark expanse of Maven Black-Briar’s estate. Brynjolf’s little move had fuzzied my brain a bit, but I wasn’t backing down from this. I’d been planning it for weeks now. The mistress of the house was out of town. I’d seen all three of her children getting drunk tonight; if they were home, they’d be out cold. It was hard not to spot Maul, and he, too, had had a constant mug of ale in his hand. The guards would be on minimal rotation. No one was expecting a break-in tonight of all nights.

Beyond all that I’d done something that on retrospect had made me feel particularly heinous: I’d stolen a map of the Black-Briar estate from Brynjolf’s room. I’d told myself it was for his good and for the good of all our friends that I’d done it, but the truth was I just couldn’t let this drop. I had to know what she was to them. I had to know what was in that little black box.

Getting inside was easy enough. I scaled the fence easily and dropped lightly to my feet, moving silently in the darkness as I approached the main building. There was a basement entrance, but I knew it was trapped from the other side, and according to the map, the traps could only be set or released from the other side. So I instead approached the back door.

I crouched down, closed my eyes and listened, resting my ear against the heavy wooden door. My hearing, too, is more acute than most, and when I concentrate, when I sync my breath with my heartbeat and let the sounds come to me instead of straining for them, I can eventually hear movement on the other side. I did hear something, but it was closer towards the front of the house. True, there could be a guard sitting down nearby, but it was a chance I didn’t mind taking.

Thanks to Vex’s tutelage I was now a fairly good lockpicker. I’d always been good, but working with a true expert had made me realize how much I really needed to learn. I tweaked the lock open without making so much as a sound, and on the door hinges I’d dabbed a little oil I’d been carrying in my pocket. The lock slid back soundlessly and the door swung gently open without so much as a peep.

I peeked in. The hallway was empty.

I honestly almost couldn’t believe my luck. This was Maven Black-Briar we were talking about after all. Even on tonight of all nights you’d think she’d have the place more heavily guarded. But, evidently not.

I’d studied the map long enough to know where to go. After just a few turns I was at the entrance to the basement. I almost expected the downstairs to creek as I hesitantly stepped down on the first step, but it didn’t. Success.

At the bottom of the stairs and down one corner finally stood a guard. And he was awake.

This was disappointing. There was no way for me to get to the room with the safe without crossing in front of him, in full view. I stood there, just behind the one wall separating us, tense. There was the option of heading back upstairs and to the second floor, to check the master bedroom. But I felt sure that if the black box were here at all it would be in the safe. She hadn’t sent Vex and myself 300 miles across Skyrim to retrieve a bauble for her to set on her nightstand.

So, I waited. Sometimes that’s just part of the job: waiting. I amused myself by listening to the guard, mouthing along to the songs he sang, making faces when he belched or one time farted so loud it made him say, reflexively, “Whew!” after which he laughed rather sheepishly. Eventually, though, I got my chance.

I heard him after a moment head towards the far corner of the room, where I knew there to be a small basement level window. When I felt it was safe to do so, I peeked around the corner, only to see him leaning over to open the window, after which he pulled out a little cigarette box. Ah, time for a smoke break, apparently. And what with all the loose hay on the floor, he was likely forbidden from smoking, and so he planned to have a few puffs and drop the cigarette out the window. Perfect.

As soon as his back was turned, busy lighting the cigarette, I hurried across the room, disappearing soundlessly behind a small hallway which led to the safe room.

Once there, I made quick, careful work on the lock and let myself in, gently closing the door behind me.

The room was large, with several different doors apparently leading off to smaller rooms—I wasn’t sure, as the map hadn’t had much to say about this particular room. Presumably because no one from the Guild had actually been here. I spotted the basement door leading up to the outside; that would be my way out. I probably had plenty of time, but I figured I might as well get started.

I went up to the large safe in the corner of the room and crouched before it. My biggest concern was that it had been spelled shut in addition to being locked. I’d written to Enthir several weeks prior and had asked for a charm to open such a spell, but I’d only asked for one. (Normally Enthir was one crotchety bastard and would never have responded to such a request, but I told him he owed me after being paid all that hush money from the Guild. He actually complied. I guess you can’t say he isn’t a man who doesn’t know how to pick his battles.) So if both the safe and the black box were spelled shut, I would be, to put it bluntly, shit out of luck.

But Nocturnal was smiling on me that night. After about half an hour’s work, I managed to open the safe. It wasn’t spelled shut. And inside it was a virtual treasure trove.

I don’t just mean gold coins or jewels or that sort of thing, although those were all there. I mean Things That Probably Mattered. Letters, documents, deeds, stacks of incrementing papers, even a few enchanted items—a sword that seemed to sing softly, a crown that glowed with an ominous red light. There was even what appeared to be a human or mer skull. I chose not to think about that one too much.

And there in the corner was one little black box.

I reached for it, picking it up rather reverently, half-afraid it would burn my fingers. But it didn’t. It seemed disappointingly ordinary. Nevertheless, I diligently got the charm stone Enthir had sent me and tilted the box so I could lay the charm over the box.

“ _Zu’u los kaaz kul_ ,” I whispered. The rune etched into the stone lit up at the sound of my voice. I had no idea what the words meant but it was what Enthir had instructed me to say—and it appeared to be working.

I heard a very, very soft ‘click.’ The rune disappeared from the charm, leaving it just an ordinary rock now. I slipped it back into my pocket and reached for my smallest lock pick. It took less than five minutes for me to get the lock to open.

I subconsciously held my breath as I opened the lid. Inside was a small, leather-bound black book.

No title, no author, no nothing. Just a book.

I set the box down and pulled out the book, thumbing it open to the first page.

It was a list of hand-written names. It took me a second before I began to recognize a few, although they were none of them individuals I’d ever directly been involved with. Most were very powerful people, merchants, heads of state, mercenary leaders, generals, businessmen and women. The ones at the top were the oldest names; one I recognized as belonging to a long since dead orsimer kingpin who’d been in business back when I’d still been a child. Now that I thought about it, all of the names I recognized belonged to dead people. I turned the page—more names. And there, near the bottom of the list—

 _Karliah_.

My heart nearly stopped. Karliah, who had died of mysterious circumstances. And now I find her name in a book with a whole list of very powerful, _very_ dead people. Karliah had only died less than a year ago though. I had to be getting towards the end. I turned the next page, and there was only one name printed at the top of the page:

 _Brynjolf_.

My heart was now thudding in my chest, threatening to leap out of my throat if I wasn’t careful. I slammed the book closed, as if in so doing I could prevent what seemed like the inevitable.

“No,” I whispered. This couldn’t be happening. It _couldn’t_.

“Oh, you poor, poor boy. If only wishes were horses. I suppose then you’d have a whole stable full.”

Shocked, I whirled around to stare up at the woman who was now standing in the corner of the room, a cruel smirk on her handsome face.

It was Maven Black-Briar.


	7. Revelations

Somehow I’d foreseen this. I don’t know how. I’d just known it, deep down in my bones, that this whole business with Maven Black-Briar and her damned little black box stank more than rotting dog shit. Not that being proven right brought me any real pleasure. And it seemed now that it might even cost me more than I was willing to pay.

“Where is he?” I asked, grinding the words through my teeth. I swallowed, holding up the black book. “Or is he already dead—just like Karliah?”

Maven made a face at the dead woman’s name. “Unlikely. I sent him away, you know.” She smiled. “He’s such a good little dog, your Brynjolf. All you little thieves are. Well, except you, I suppose. But then I didn’t really get a chance to break you in the way I did with the others.”

“You needn’t have bothered trying.”

“Yes, well. That’s very evident _now_ , isn’t it?” She sighed, as if the conversation were already boring her. “Even though all my information told me you would be difficult, I wanted to believe otherwise. You were doing so well. Brynjolf had quite a bit of confidence in you.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Though after tonight’s little display I think I’m beginning to see why. It never really occurred to me that the foolish man was merely besotted.”

Despite everything, I felt my heart give a little turn in my chest at her words. Brynjolf, besotted—with me? But no, that couldn’t be the only reason he lobbied so hard to bring me into the Guild. He obviously saw something in me. He was too clever to be fooled by anything else.

Maven sat down in the only chair in the room, sighing a little as she crossed her legs. “The others all fell in line, you know. All it _really_ takes is one tiny little secret. And _every_ one has a secret, my boy.”

She smiled and arched an eyebrow. “Did you know you have an Imperial countess within your ranks? Oh how she’d gut me if I ever let _that_ one slip. But sadly it would be the end for her as well. Some political nonsense that would inevitably lead to her assassination were she discovered. Which means I’ve got her right where I want her. It’s the same for all the others, I’m afraid.

“You see, once I’ve decided to bring them into the fold I let them know that _I_ know. There are a lot of ways to control a person. But information is the most assured way.”

I blinked. So that was it? That was why the others all refused to talk about Maven Black-Briar and why they were constantly at her beck and call? What sort of heinous secrets could a person possibly have that it would virtually enslave them like that?

“I was ready to bring you in, you know. You see, I know your secret, too, Calowen Bright-Hair.”

“I don’t have any secrets.” The lie felt thick on my tongue. “My life is a fucking open book. Or at least it seems that way, considering the entire guild seems to know my life history.”

“Oh, they don’t know everything. And I imagine you wouldn’t want them, too, either.” She rested her elbows on the chair’s rickety arms, folding her hands in front of her. “You see, they believe your father is a Nord. But you and I both know that isn’t true.”

For a second, I couldn’t breathe.

“Bullshit,” I managed. “My father’s name was Roglaf Bright-Hair. He and my mother died sixteen years ago in a fire near Winterhold.”

“No~” she said, drawing the word out playfully. “Roglaf Bright-Hair was your stepfather. Your _real_ father’s name was J’Zah Satinni. He had big bright eyes, long pointy whiskers, and a striped fuzzy tail.” She sat back, a smile curling onto her face. “Your father, as you well know, was Khajiit.”

The world around me went mute. I crouched there, deaf and dumb, my existence spiraling before me into a sinkhole. How could she know this? _No one_ knew this. My life was a lie, but it was a lie so well-spun I had grown to half-believe it myself.

My mother had told me once that she’d been so afraid while carrying me. She didn’t know what I would look like. Would I be some sort of hybridized abomination, not only unwelcome in every city across Skyrim but actively persecuted? She didn’t know if she would have to go into hiding—or if she would even have the strength to do so. If she would have to leave me on some cold mountain top and pray to the Nine for a swift and merciful end.

Lucky for me she didn’t have to make that choice. I came out looking elf-y enough, elf-y enough to pass as full-blooded. But we told the world that my stepfather was my true father. If people believed me half-blooded, they’d accept any eccentricities I might come to display. I would be an oddity, but nothing more.

But there’s a difference between a half-man, half-mer child and a half-beast like myself. I was a monster—by every definition of the word. I was the living embodiment of my poor mother’s shame.

“How…” I couldn’t get the words out at first. I was too breathless, practically panting—like the animal I was. “How do you know this?”

“The how’s and why’s are irrelevant, my boy. The truth of the matter is, I’ve got your number. And had you not pulled tonight’s little stunt, we could have come to an agreement. No one else had to know. You work for me, I keep my mouth shut.” She gave an elegant shrug. “Everybody’s happy.”

“And you do this to all of them? You find their secrets, their weakest points—and you exploit that?”

“Just so. Well, all except your precious Brynjolf. The man’s a mother hen. I knew fairly soon that I needn’t exhaust my resources digging up dirt on him. All I had to do was tell him what _I_ already know. Now he tows the line more so than any of the others. And all so he can preserve their deepest, darkest secrets and spare them ruination, humiliation, or even death.”

I couldn’t believe what she was saying. Even despite the revelation of my own heritage, this was too much to take in.

“So he knows everything?” I asked. I’m sure I could hardly keep the shock from my voice. “He knows—about me?”

“Of course he does. I told him as soon as we decided you were a good fit.” Her eyes narrowed.

“But you had to go and ruin that, didn’t you? Discovering _my_ little secret. And I’m afraid that’s not something I can allow to leave this room, let alone this house.”

I tensed—the only weapon I had was a small dagger in my right boot. But she at least appeared to be unarmed.

She stood up. In retrospect I should have anticipated what happened next. Consider it the vestiges of shock clouding my better senses.

“Guards?” she said.

They seemed to pour in from the very shadows, but that was probably, again, because I was still in some degree of shock. Only a few stepped in from the hallway; the rest had been waiting behind the doors sprinkled about the main room. All the exits to the basement room were now cut off. At least ten well-armed men and women now filled the room we were in, the air ringing with the sound of steel against steel as they unsheathed their weapons.

“Bit excessive,” I said lightly. “Don’t you think?

“Not at all. Your reputation precedes you, my boy. You’re quite known for getting out of tight spaces.”

“If that’s not an innuendo, I don’t know what is.” I rose to my feet, flicking the dagger out of my boot as I did so. I still held the black book in my other hand. “Just so you know,” I said to the guards, “I’ve been practicing. So I might actually manage to kill one of you. Just thought I’d be a sport and warn you first.”

“That’s a nine in ten chance of survival,” said Maven. “For what I’m paying them, I imagine it’s worth the risk. Well,” she said, turning to the guards, “What are you waiting for?”

“Waiting for this,” said a familiar bored voice.

And before any of us could really react, one of the guards had an arrow through the back of the head, the point of the arrow jutting out from behind one eye.

And there they were. My friends.

They emerged from behind the guards, slipping in from the dimly-lit hallways. There was Niruin, who’d shot the arrow, and beside him Vex and Sapphire, Delvin and Rune and Cynric and Vipir and even Tonila. Several of the guards fell in that split second advantage, but not all. They quickly turned and met their attackers, and they were well-armed, and trained to fight in such close, dark quarters.

But so were we.

“Catch!” said Sapphire, tossing a dead guard’s sword in my general direction. I caught it, tossing my little dagger aside, and immediately turned to block a deadly swing from another guard. The force of the blow shook me to my bones. For a few seconds, I managed to hold my own, but the man was more powerful and far more experienced than I was. I had the advantage in terms of speed and agility, but in such a tight space that wouldn’t keep me alive for long.

“Need a little help?” asked Delvin, the man looking surprisingly sober as he moved in beside me. He blocked the guard’s next swing, giving me the opening; I slashed the man through the gut, though not before he managed to aim his fist in my general direction, the blow glancing off my jaw and sending me stumbling back, my back hitting the wall.

“Heads up,” said Delvin, just as another guard moved in for the advantage kill. I just managed to block her swing, giving Delvin a chance to whirl around and shove his sword into her side. I quickly slit her throat, ending her agony—a weakness of mine, I guess. I don’t like seeing people suffer. Not usually, anyway.

I had a chance to pause then, and see how the others faired. The stronger fighters had mimicked Delvin and stood by the weaker, Sapphire protecting Vex’s flank, and Cynric doing the same for Niruin. Tonila not surprisingly held her own, though she, too, was fighting back to back, with both Vipir and Rune.

It was over quickly. By the end of it, the floor was littered with the dead and dying bodies of Maven’s erstwhile guards. I slipped more than once on a pool of fresh blood. Several of the guild members were injured: Vipir was limping, and Delvin was clutching his side, a hard grimace on his face.

I saw a blur of blonde hair come storming past—I was still a little light-head from that punch—and blinked to see Vex grabbing Maven by the throat and shoving her hard against the wall.

“Where is he?” she snarled.

Maven stared back at her with huge eyes. She had to know her chances of survival were slim. Well, no. That was being generous.

“And if I tell you?” she gasped, her hands clawing desperately at Vex’s arms. “Will you let me live?”

“No. But you won’t suffer. Much.”

I walked up beside her. “That’s not much of an inducement to speak, Vex.”

“Listen to the boy!” gasped Maven. “Let me go, and I’ll tell you where he is!”

Vex narrowed her eyes. “All right. I’m listening.”

“Blessed Night Mother…” She struggled, though Vex’s grip around her throat remained firm. “I sent him to the caves… The Alardine Caves. They’re only a day’s ride from here. But he won’t be alone.”

“Why not?” I asked.

This was news to me. He’d very specifically told me he would be traveling alone.

She winced—I think she was beginning to lose consciousness. “Foolish boy. You… don’t even know what you hold in your hand. Each of those names is a gift to the… the Dark Brotherhood. Brynjolf… knew too much. Like Karliah. He was beginning to question…” She slapped weakly, uselessly at Vex’s wrist. “They will take care of him. I’ve paid them… well enough…”

I exchanged a look with Vex. This was bad. The Dark Brotherhood were thought by most to be little more than a legend. I’d certainly never encountered one of its members. But if this was how Maven had been dealing with her enemies—no wonder she’d been so desperate to get that book back.

I looked back at her.

“All right,” I said. “You’ve kept up your end of the bargain.”

“Then you’ll… release me?”

Vex gave me a furious look. I could see we were of one mind.

“No,” I said. I received no pleasure in watching the panic enter her face as I came closer. I shoved my sword into her stomach with little ado, twisting it up so she would die fairly quickly.

“And just for the record,” I added, watching as the light left her eyes, “I’m not a boy. I’m 28 fucking years old, for gods’ sakes.”

I pulled the sword free, and Vex finally released her. We watched as the body slumped to the ground, blood quickly staining the fine dress she’d been wearing. The sight made me sick. I turned to face the others.

Delvin had gone pale now and was sitting off to the side, Cynric hovering beside him. Tonila was tending to Vipir’s leg, attempting to stop the bleeding.

“Well,” said Sapphire, wiping her sword blade off on her pants leg, “This sure is a hell of a cock-up.”

“More so for her than us,” said Niruin. He was busy going around and retrieving his arrows from some of the dead bodies.

“I can’t believe she’s dead,” said Rune. He was staring in shock at Maven’s corpse. “I mean… she’s _dead_.”

“That’s pretty much what happens when you shove a sword into somebody,” said Delvin, wincing as Cynric tried to remove his shirt. “Easy there, lad. Ysmir’s balls… Well done, by the way,” he added, looking up at me. “I’ve been wanting to gut the bitch for years now.”

I shook my head. “I can’t believe she’s been doing this. I don’t even know how she even…” I trailed off, a new thought coming to mind. “Wait a second.” I looked at them all. “How did _you_ all know to be here?”

“I followed you,” said Vex. Her voice and expression were as matter-of-fact as ever. “I still didn’t quite trust you. Can’t say I was surprised when you finally left the tavern and headed in this direction. I waited until you were inside the estate before going back to get the others.”

“I’d just like to point out that I was on your side the whole time,” said Sapphire. “I think we all knew something was about to go down tonight. What with Karliah disappearing, then you showing up, then Brynjolf leaving—”

“Shit!” I squeezed my right fist, grinding my teeth together. “Brynjolf. We have to go after him!”

“Agreed,” said Vex. “But not all of us.”

“Half of us can barely stand,” said Tonila. (“Speak for yourself,” joked Vipir. She punched him lightly in the shoulder.)

“Well I’m going,” I said. “The rest of you can decide who stays or goes.”

“I’m coming with you,” said Vex, surprising no one.

“I’ll come as well,” said Niruin. That _did_ surprise me. It shouldn’t’ have, but it did. Niruin was loyal to the Guild. He may not show it the way the rest of us did, but he was just as furious.

Sapphire clicked her tongue. “Can’t let you three helpless idiots run off on your own. You’ll need at least one person who knows how to wield a proper blade.”

Vex raised an eyebrow. “And you’re volunteering?”

“Hm. I guess I am.”

I looked around at the others, but it seemed we four were the ones. The rest were either too injured or volunteered to remain behind to maintain the Guild in the absence of so many of its leaders.

“Let me see that book,” said Delvin, holding his hand out.

I walked over and handed it to him. He leafed through it for a second, frowning. After a moment, he brought it up to his nose and sniffed. Another grimace came to his face, though this time not from the pain.

“Magic,” he muttered. He tossed the book aside. “It’s connected to the Brotherhood. She puts a name in there, it lets ‘em know. It’s a contract keeper of sorts. Though there has to be more to it than this. Probably a room she keeps somewhere filled with buckets of goats blood and fucking corpses.” He groaned, having to pause and lean over, clutching his bloodied side.

“That’s enough out of you,” said Vex. “We need to get you to a healer.”

At this point, we remained unsure as to whether the basement confrontation had been heard by those upstairs, or even if there _were_ anyone upstairs. It was safest to leave via the basement door exit. The trap was disarmed easily enough. Disarming traps proved to be one of Niruin’s specialties. He seemed to have the patience for it.

Back at the Guild, the resident healer, a young Redguard woman, was awakened and put quickly to work. Vipir’s leg she patched up well enough, and she made quick work of the slash across the shoulder Cynric had suffered. Delvin’s injury would require another pair of hands, though, and a surgeon was called for. I suspect the large quantities of alcohol he’d consumed earlier in the night—how he’d been able to fight, and so expertly at that, was beyond me—was the reason behind the persistent flow of blood. Reassured the injury, though serious, wasn’t life-threatening, Vex, Sapphire, Niruin, and I left to quickly gather our things.

We met in the same room where Brynjolf, Vex, and I had planned for the break-in at the Palace of the Kings.

“I happen to know where these caves are,” said Vex, spreading open one of many maps they had of the surrounding area. “Here.” She tapped her finger against the spot in question. “They’re huge and run deep into the mountains. They’re also part of an old Nord burial ground. They’re notorious for enticing treasure hunters who never see the light of day again.”

“Wonderful,” I said.

“Ugh,” said Sapphire, wrinkling her nose. “Sounds like it’ll be riddled with draugr.”

“Don’t forget the assassins,” said Niruin.

Vex folded up the map and stuffed it into her pack. “We can complain about the location later. Let’s go.”

“Wait.”

The other three paused and looked at me—they were curious, I could tell, but anxious to be off.

I looked down for a second, my fingers absently tracing a scratch mark in the wood of the table. “About what Maven said. About me, that is. I suppose you all heard.”

“We did,” said Vex.

The other two remained silent.

I looked up again, meeting each of their eyes. “I’m sorry I lied to you. But I—I hope this doesn’t change things. I know it’s not—what I mean is, I’m still myself.” I was quiet for a second before carefully continuing. “I know it’s unusual. It isn’t done. But I—can’t help how I came to be. I promise I…”

But I couldn’t continue. I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted from them. Acceptance, perhaps. They’d already given me that for the most part, but that was before they knew what I was: an abomination against nature.

“Don’t know what you’re squawking about so much,” Sapphire said, finally breaking the silence. “I like the Khajiit. Nice people, for the most part.” She smirked. “Always found it kind of ironic how they weren’t allowed inside the city on account their allegedly being such dirty rotten thieves.”

“They do smell when it rains,” said Niruin, his expression as passive as ever. “I highly doubt you suffer the same problem. Besides, if you’re a Khajiit, you’re certainly the prettiest one I’ve ever seen.”

I was too shocked to respond. Niruin had _complimented_ me.

Beside him, Sapphire guffawed. “Why, Niruin! I had no idea you felt that way about him!”

Niruin snorted. “I’m sure he wishes I did.”

And then he smiled. _Niruin_. I’m sure if I hadn’t already been numb from receiving shock upon shock tonight I’d have fainted on the spot.

“All right,” said Vex, “Shall we head out now that the pity party’s over?”  

If was nearing dawn by the time we all set out. I’m not sure what we were thinking. We hadn’t slept in nearly 24 hours, and at least two of us had enjoyed the festivities perhaps a little too much the previous night. We were running on rage and adrenaline, but that was bound to run out soon.

It was supposedly a day’s travel on horseback from here to the Alardine caves. On foot it would take several days, and we didn’t have that much time. I had Neve, and she could carry one additional rider, but that left two others in need of a mount. After I’d saddled Neve and led her out to the courtyard, I noticed Vex emerging from the stables not long after me and leading a black mare I had never seen before. Some wayward traveler was probably going to be very angry in the morning when they tried to leave the city. I could only imagine the amount of coin that now lined dear young Shadr’s pockets.

We rode two apiece, Sapphire behind me on Neve, and Niruin behind Vex on the other horse. The early rays from the steadily rising sun made it slightly easier to pick out the path before us. I was probably the best tracker, but Vex had actually been to the caves, or at least the area around which they were located, so she and Niruin led the way.

We didn’t stop for lunch but instead ate the pulled jerky and dried fruit we’d so hastily packed late in the previous evening. I was therefore about ready to fall out of my saddle by the time the sun began slowly sinking back down behind the mountains. I was pretty sure Sapphire behind me had fallen asleep, her cheek resting against the back of my shoulder now dead weight.

“Stay alert,” said Vex. “We’re nearly there.”

I pulled Neve up. “Vex, wait.”

She paused and looked back at us. “What?”

“We need to stop. If we continue forward in our current state we won’t be much help to him. If it comes to a fight—which, if the Dark Brotherhood are involved, I imagine it will—I can petty much assure you that I won’t be of much help. And neither will the rest of you.”

“Nevertheless,” said Niruin, still sitting straight and tall behind Vex, “We should press on. Brynjolf could be in danger right this very second. A few hour’s delay could be the difference between life and death.”

“Not having my sword arm between you and a draugr could be the difference between life and death, too,” slurred a sleepy-sounding Sapphire.

Vex looked as us both, then up ahead towards the end of the path.

“All right,” she finally said. “Let’s make camp here. No fire. We’ll rest for a couple of hours—tops. Sapphire can set some wards.”

As we dismounted, I turned to my riding companion, surprised. “I didn’t know you were a mage.”

“I’m not,” she said. “I only know a relatively useless healing spell and how to set a ward. And not very well, either.”

“How comforting,” said Niruin. He seemed clearly irritated that we were stopping, but in typical Niruin fashion, kept his feelings and opinions to himself.

While Sapphire busied herself setting the wards and Niruin unpacked some of the gear and laid out the bed rolls, Vex and I went to tie up the horses. Well, she tied up the black mare while I loosened Neve’s bridle and whispered to her, reminding her that she was on guard duty while us poor humans and mer obtained a little much needed beauty sleep.

“Stop it,” said Vex.

I turned to look at her. “Stop what?”

“Stop _that_. Normally you’d have a clever little retort ready for me, but you don’t. Which just proves my point.” She moved closer. “Stop it.”

I put my hands on my hips, exasperated. “Vex, I’m too tired to read your mind right now.”

She glanced at the others before saying, lowering her voice. “So you’re half-cat. Big deal. None of us cares. Now put it aside so we can focus on the task at hand.”

I was silent for a moment. Her words simultaneously touched and startled me. I knew I was with a special group of people—perhaps it was the simple fact that they themselves were all misfits, and this was why they chose not to judge me. Or maybe it just wasn’t the time or place, not while Brynjolf was still in danger.

Brynjolf.

Speaking of reading minds.

Vex rolled her eyes. “For the love of— _tell_ me you’re not thinking about him right now. The man is clearly in love with you, you idiot. He obviously doesn’t give a shit about what you are.”

“Well,” I said, very relieved that the near surrounding darkness no doubt obscured the rising warmth to my face, “I don’t guess we really know that, do we. I mean, we danced. Then he left. Hardly the actions of a man madly in love, right? Just between you and me, that kiss on the hand? I’m thinking pity kiss. Poor sad little cat boy, harboring his sad little crush. I’ll brighten his evening before I’m off to be murdered by the Dark Brotherhood. And yes, before you tell me to shut up again, I know I’m blabbering. I’m really, really tired, Vex.”

Her expression softened ever so briefly.

“So am I,” she said.

Before she turned away, I couldn’t resist reaching out, putting my hand on her shoulder. She looked back at me, questioning.

“It’s you,” I said, keeping my voice low. “The—Imperial.” I’d almost said ‘countess’ but thought better of it. “Isn’t it?”

She held my eyes for a few seconds longer before turning away again. I stood there for only a moment longer before following her. I’m not sure why I asked her. Maybe I just needed to have it confirmed that someone else had had their greatest secret exposed for all to see—even if I was the only one who had guessed hers. I certainly hadn’t meant to hurt her, and it didn’t seem that I had. She just wasn’t stupid enough to confirm it aloud.

I wondered who wanted her dead. I could understand Brynjolf’s predicament, for a brief moment. I knew I’d do anything to protect Vex’s secret, especially if it meant preserving her life. I wondered where he was right now, if he was even still alive. For a moment, I felt Niruin’s anger at being forced to stop for a few hours. Guilt crawled up my spine as I lay there beneath the blanket on the bedroll, a stubborn rock poking up through the material and making me shift several times before the darkness of sleep began to claim me.

His face, smiling up at me over our clasped hands, was the last image in my mind before I faded into welcome unconsciousness.


	8. Search Party

I was jolted awake by a sharp, stabbing pain at the back of my skull. 

I groaned, reaching to rub at the back of my head, but the sensation was already dissipating. Around me, I was dimly aware of the others, shifting, sitting up, complaining in grumbly voices.

I blinked and finally sat up.

“Shit,” said Sapphire, rubbing the back of her head irritably. “Something set the wards off.”

“ _That’s_ what that was?” I had to admit, as far as wards go, it was crude but effective. Nobody was going to sleep through _that_.

Vex got quickly to her feet, both her daggers palmed and ready. Niruin swiftly followed. The pair of them disappeared into the surrounding trees while Sapphire and I waited silently. I couldn’t hear anything except the horses, Neve and the other mare nickering back at one another, their tails swishing softly.

“Nothing,” said Vex, reemerging. She sheathed her daggers.

“Assassins, more than likely,” said Niruin, also reappearing. I could see the rest of his thoughts written plainly on his face: _This is what we get for resting._

“Isn’t that rather jumping to conclusions?” I asked, Sapphire and I both rising to our feet now, helping the others quickly break camp. “Could be deer. Or spiders. Lots of spiders in these parts.”

Sapphire shuddered. “Ugh. But no, the wards are only set to respond to humans and mer.” She gave me a curious look. “To be honest, I have no idea if someone like you would affect them.”

“This is going to be a thing isn’t it. Bringing up the cat thing at every opportunity.”

She grinned. “It was just a thought. Don’t get your whiskers in a twist.”

“If that was the Brotherhood,” said Niruin, “Why let us go unharmed? Why not slit our throats and continue on their way?”

“These aren’t run of the mill assassins,” said Vex. “They work under what they consider to be a sacred contract. No outside kills, unless you attempt to impede them on the way to their target.”

“They have to know who we are and why we were here,” I said.

“Probably. But at the moment, we don’t pose a threat. Not while they’re between us and Brynjolf.”

None of us asked how she knew so much about the Brotherhood. Something told me an escaped Imperial countess had been very likely to come up against them though—perhaps she’d even required the aid of someone like Maven Black-Briar to fend them off. 

Regardless, her words spurred us on to greater swiftness. In less than a minute, we were ready to go. 

It might seem as if we didn’t have faith in Brynjolf, but that wasn’t true. He was the best of us. (And yes, I say “us” though at the time I still didn’t fully consider myself one of them—hell, the only reason I was still alive was because Vex didn’t trust me and followed me to the Black-Briar estate.) But this was the Dark Brotherhood. And Brynjolf was only one man. I’d place a lot of coin down on the possibility of him realizing at some point that he was walking into a trap. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t still in a great deal of danger. Realizing you’re about to step on a bear trap right before your foot snaps off doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Vex quickly hobbled the black mare, and I said my good-byes to Neve, asking her to remain on her guard and promising that we wouldn’t be very long. She flicked her ears towards me and pushed my hand aside with her nose. I’m pretty sure she didn’t believe me.

We finished gathering our things and crept towards the doors to the antechamber. They were fairly well-polished. Offerings of flowers, wheat, and gold lay strewn about, and the doors didn’t so much as squeak when we opened them. Some local was clearly keeping the place up—this being the eternal seat of their forefathers and mothers, it wasn’t so surprising. But they likely didn’t step foot past the doors themselves.

Inside, we paused to light our torches before continuing down into the crypt. 

“There,” I said, pointing towards a passage that opened off to our left. “Footprints.”

Sapphire blinked. “You can _see_ that?”

“No, I’m making it up. Thought it would help lighten the mood.”

Vex crouched low to the floor, angling her torch to get a better look. “I can see them. Barely.”

Sapphire whistled before giving me a look. “Impressive.”

“Oh, I’m full of tricks. Just you wait and see.”

I stepped in front of Vex, leading the way—my keen eyesight made me the obvious choice to do so. I was probably the weakest combatant, though, so Sapphire followed close behind, and Niruin behind her. Vex brought up the rear.

The crypt hallways were twisting and narrow, decrepit coffins jutting out at odd angles and forcing us to move slowly in the near darkness. The musty, moldy smell was nearly overpowering. However, I would occasionally catch a whiff of open air seeping in through the various cracks in the walls and ceilings—evidence that a vast network of caves virtually surrounded the entire crypt. The juxtaposition of the cramped crypt and the surrounding sensation of openness made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It didn’t feel right. Plus the instincts I’d inherited from my father made me balk at traveling deeper and deeper underground. Visions of giant spiders and the blind maw of falmer danced before me, tricking my brain and making me start once or twice. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything.

Of course, it wasn’t the falmer I ought to have been worrying about. We were in a Nordic crypt, after all. And Nordic crypts are notoriously restless.

“Did you hear that?” asked Niruin.

Sapphire and I stopped and looked back at him. He’d paused, his free hand resting on the crypt wall, his eyes gleaming in the torchlight.

“No,” said Sapphire.

“Yes,” I said. 

“What is it?” asked Vex.

I looked at Niruin, but he was looking at me. Apparently, he assumed my hearing was superior and thus I could explain better. He was probably right.

“A sort of heavy breathing,” I said. “Bit gurgly. Interspersed with the occasional moan.”

“And you didn’t _say_ anything?”

“We’re in a crypt, Vex. I figured it was only a matter of time. No point scaring anyone before the fact.”

“Mission failed,” said Sapphire. “I’m more than a little scared of all this moaning only you and Niruin can hear.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Niruin. “I imagine we’ll all be able to hear it soon enough.”

“Way to lift their spirits,” I said. I turned back towards the way ahead. “Come on. If it helps, Brynjolf and the assassins had to pass this way, too.”

“It _doesn’t_ help, actually,” said Vex. “They could all be dead by now.”

“And now it’s our turn,” said Sapphire, a shudder in her voice.

“If something attacks us, just pick Cal up and throw him,” said Niruin. “We can escape while they’re distracted.”

“Thanks,” I said over the sound of Sapphire’s guffaws. “Also, maybe we should at least _try_ to be a little quiet?”

“It was funny!” she said. “I couldn’t help it.”

I’ve fought draugr before. They’re terrifying—faster than you’d think they’d be. Strong, too. I’d once had to nurse a broken collarbone for months after one grabbed me with its free hand. The other hand happened to be holding a huge ancient Nordic hammer, so I suppose I’m lucky a broken collarbone was the worst I suffered. 

But the _absolute_ worst thing about them is the smell. Old and musty you’d expect, even the sour odor of rotting flesh. But on top of all that there’s that special something that lingers in the nose, a sour smell that’s all the draugr’s own. Once you catch a whiff of it, you know you’re in deep trouble. There’s a draugr likely near, less than 20 feet away. And like I said, the things can really _move_.

I stopped abruptly, reaching behind me with my free hand and silently stopping Sapphire, too. Vex and Niruin paused as well.

We had entered a sort of room, the walls around us too enclosed in shadow for us to make out. The footprints led right through the center. 

The sound of a fly buzzing somewhere filled the hollow room.

As did the smell.

“What?” hissed Vex.

“I think our luck may have just run out,” I said.

I crept right, holding my torch up as I did so. The smell was so bad now it took everything I had not to gag—how could they not detect it? The wall finally loomed up before me, and I lifted my torch a little higher, the light from the flames flickering against the damp stone. I moved the torch to the right, then to the left, the weak light penetrating the shadows and revealing the edge of some sort of stone structure. 

“It’s a coffin,” said Vex, sounding slightly less confident than normal.

“Yes,” I said, shifting even further to the left, the light from my torch falling inside the coffin. “And it isn’t empty.”

“Ysmir’s balls,” said Sapphire. 

It was a draugr. Unmoving, for now. Tattered clothing clung to its rotting corpse, both its hand clutching a Nordic broadsword. The stench at this point was almost enough to make me want to pass out.

A low moan from behind had us all whirling around in an instant.

“That was right behind us!” said Vex. 

“Fuck,” I said under my breath. Then we heard another moan, this one off to our right. “Fuck!! They’re all around us!”

The shuffling sound of movement filled the room now as the draugr extricated themselves from their upright coffins. Sapphire and Vex unsheathed their blades, as did Niruin after a second. I pulled my own dagger free, what little good it would do me—we were in near darkness, and I was still so weak with a blade when it came down to it. 

Then they were upon us. Sapphire’s sword met the sword of the first one head on, the sound of steel on steel ringing and knocking against the surrounding stone. Vex ducked the swinging axe of a second before turning quickly and shoving a dagger just above the draugr’s knee—a move that would hamstring any living, breathing person, but the draugr merely flinched. I threw my dagger without thinking, the point burying itself between the thing’s eyes. It fell with a groan, crumbling slowly down onto the stone floor.

“Tell me that wasn’t your only dagger!” shouted Vex, whirling to meet the sword of another draugr.

“Believe me, I wish I could!” 

I ducked to avoid a swinging axe, stepping back several feet in doing so. My back met something hard—I’d backed right into that first coffin, the one with the still sleeping draugr. Only it wasn’t asleep anymore.

I felt a cold hand wrap around my neck from behind—and suddenly it felt as if all the air had left my lungs at once. I grabbed at the bony hand around my neck, the fingers of both hands scratching uselessly. I called out, but my voice was trapped, squeezed shut by the draugr’s strong grip. I felt my feet leave the ground, my vision beginning to blacken.

“KICK IT IN THE BALLS, YOU IDIOT!” 

Sapphire’s voice forced the panic back. I reacted swiftly, kicking back with precision, not at the draugr’s (no doubt nonexistent) balls but the knee cap. It’s leg buckled. From the corner of my eye I saw its free hand lifting a blade into the air. I reached out, catching its arm by the wrist. Then I twisted, kicking out a second time, this time against the other knee. The draugr collapsed, dropping it sword in favor of steadying itself against the stone floor, its other hand releasing its hold around my neck.

I coughed and gagged, the air now filing my lungs burning with each gasp. No time to try to catch my breath now; the draugr, on its broken knees now, swung its blade at me again. I rolled over, the steel of its sword clanging against the floor where I’d been lying. I crouched to my feet and grabbed the only weapon I still had—my bow, strapped to my back, along with all my arrows. In less than two seconds, I’d pulled, aimed, and shot an arrow into the draugr’s face, causing it to crumble and not rise again.

I did my best in those few spare seconds to quickly assess our situation. Our torches lay on the ground, flickering, casting shadows up at the bodies moving above them. Sapphire was holding her own, and doing her best to protect Niruin, who was by no means a poor fighter, but in the near darkness, he was struggling. Even worse, the remaining draugr seemed to sniff Sapphire out as the strongest among us and were doing their best to surround her. Vex was a flash of movement, never in the same place for more than a second. But her slashing, hit-and-run style of fighting was ill-matched against the sheer, reckless power of the draugr. Furthermore, I knew if _I_ could barely make them out, that they were likely fighting nearly blind. 

We weren’t going to last long. Not like this.

“I have an idea!” I said.

“What?” shouted Sapphire.

It was a few seconds before I could respond. Another draugr had noticed me standing alone and broke off its attack against Sapphire and Niruin to shuffle rapidly towards me. I dodged its wild swing, the axe’s blade burying itself into the wall. The draugr struggled to pull it free—but in that split second, I’d notched another arrow and shot it through the thing’s skull, dropping it to the ground.

I lowered my bow, panting lightly.

“You’re not going to like it,” I said.

“If it involves us not dying, I’m willing to listen!” said Vex, spinning out of the way just in time as a draugr’s sword sliced into the stone wall behind her.

“All right,” I agreed. “But you have to do as I say. Even if you don’t like it.”

“Just fucking telling us already!” said Sapphire, snarling as she held back two other draugr. In darkness, I saw Niruin stumbling back, his right hand going to his left shoulder. I couldn’t make out his expression, but the movement alone told me he’d been injured. 

I notched another arrow. 

“You have to trust me on this,” I said. “Everyone drop to the ground—NOW!”

They did it. I don’t know why I was so surprised. Maybe it had something to do with being in the heat of battle. You don’t question the loyalty or expertise of a brother-in-arms at a time like that. Well at least that’s what I’m assuming. Before meeting these idiots I’d never had any interest in working with anyone but myself. 

Considering how dangerous the world can be, I suppose it’s amazing I’ve gotten as far as I have. 

Anyway, they did it. All of them, at once, hit the ground, crouching low. The draugr all paused, clearly confused—they aren’t the brightest of combatants. And in those few seconds, I began firing.

I took out Vex’s opponent first. Down. One second more to reach behind, grab, and notch another arrow. Twist, draw, and aim. Another one down. And again. A third. A fourth, regaining its senses and reaching for Sapphire, who shoves her sword up into its chest. That halts it—in time for me to send an arrow through its skull. A fifth and final, realizing, finally, what’s going on, rushing towards me now, sword drawn and held high. Twelve feet away. Ten feet. Vex crying out. Notch, aim, and fire. Five feet away from me, and it drops to the ground; I jump back on instinct, avoiding a collision with its falling corpse.

I lowered my bow, panting a bit harder now. All the draugr were dead. I looked at my friends, who were now rising slowly back to their feet, all of them peering through the darkness at me in wonder.

“That wasn’t natural,” said Vex.

I snorted. “You’re welcome.”

I began moving about the room, pushing the bodies of the dead draugr over with my boot to try and remove and salvage any of my arrows. Vex saw what I was doing and began to help me. Five of the seven I’d shot were salvageable. I guess it’s magic that makes the draugr strong, and not their decaying muscles and ages old bones. 

We made our way towards Sapphire, who was tending Niruin’s shoulder wound.

“How is he?” I asked.

“He’s perfectly fine, thank you,” said Niruin. He looked up, an unreadable look on his face. “And I agree with Vex: that was unnatural.”

“It was amazing is what it was,” said Sapphire. She glanced up at me. “You hold back, don’t you? When other people are around. So they don’t guess at what you are.”

It was a fair question. But I honestly don’t think being a little bit faster than most and having good eyesight and hearing is enough to make anyone question what I am. Then again, maybe I just don’t realize what a freak of nature I really am.

“Not really,” I finally said. “I mean—yes, maybe. Sometimes.” I shrugged. “I don’t really think about it to be honest. And it was just an idea I had. I had a hunch I could take them out if you all could get out of the way and get them to stop moving, just for a few seconds.”

Vex stared at me. “You had a _hunch_?”

I grinned. “It paid off, didn’t it?”

She grumbled under her breath and turned away. A few minutes later, Niruin’s wound was bandaged and warmed by Sapphire’s self-proclaimed piss poor healing spell. He grimaced as he flexed his left arm. He wouldn’t be shooting his bow anytime soon. But as I was the only one who could make out his expression in the near darkness, I chose not to say anything. Besides, the other two likely knew anyway.

We picked up our torches then and resumed our trek through the crypt. Though we didn’t encounter a similar room again, we did encounter more draugr. Thankfully, they were alone. Each time we heard one I had the others wait behind while I crept forward and dealt with it with my bow. It proved an effective tactic. We were lucky not to encounter any higher ranking draugr than the usual sort; my arrows would’ve no doubt proven woefully inadequate against a draugr with the ability to harness Thu’um.

Gradually the crypt began to open up into the larger surrounding caves. Niruin joined me up front; carefully placed traps began to litter the pathway, and he was the undisputed expert at disarming them. Evidence that someone had recently preceded us continued to crop up here and there, so there was little mystery as to who had set the traps.

“Couldn’t it have been Brynjolf?” I asked, watching quietly from behind as Niruin fiddled with a nearly invisible string. 

“Doubtful,” said Vex. “He hates traps. Besides, there’s no reason he would have known to have set any. Not unless he suspected Maven from the beginning.”

Personally, I wasn’t so sure that he _didn’t_ suspect Maven. Brynjolf was clever—well, they all were; they wouldn’t be a part of this guild if they weren’t. But Brynjolf had the added advantage of knowing Maven’s true colors. And though it was hard to think past the immediate feeling of embarrassment when I recalled our last conversation together, I did manage to get the impression that he was, at the least, concerned about this particular mission. 

No, I didn’t imagine those assassins would be taking him by surprise. But that still didn’t mean he wasn’t going to need our help.

The caves proved to be as immense as I’d originally sensed them to be. We crossed bridges over raging underground rivers far below. We trekked across narrow pathways that clung to the side of the hollowed out mountain. We were altogether lucky we’d managed to arrive at the caves at around the same times as the assassins; otherwise they’d have doubtlessly had more time to set up far more elaborate, and hence more difficult, traps. But Niruin managed to disarm them all. 

But the price we paid for making good time was that we were all very, very tired. We’d had very little sleep in the past 36 hours or so. We were lucky, too, in that the assassins didn’t yet perceive us as a threat—either that or they were simply too focused on their own target to bother worrying about looking behind them. But the longer we stayed awake and continued our search, the more sluggish our movements became, and the more our senses started to dull. 

It wasn’t the best condition, therefore, for us to be in when we came across what appeared to be a puzzle of some sort.

“I hate these damned things,” said Vex, hands on her hips and a scowl on her face as she regarded the scene before us. 

The path had led us down into a smallish room—thankfully free of draugr—where an iron grate obscured the way forward. No amount of searching could provide access to any sort of keyhole or lever that would lift the grate and allow us to continue onward. We started to search the entire room. It was Vex who first suggested that this was some sort of ancient Nordic or even Dwemer puzzle, and it was Vex who now stood fuming about it. Puzzles weren’t exactly her forte. 

In the center of the room stood a waist high pillar with a button in its center—definitely Dwemer in origin, then, but there was nothing else about the room that reflected the influence of that ancient race. Four more pillars surrounded the one in the middle, forming a sort of circle. Each had a series of pictures mounted on top that one could cycle through, simply by turning the stone. It was, surprisingly (she’d kill me for saying that), Sapphire who figured out that the mural painted along the entire rounded wall of the room was meant to match up with the pictures on the four outer pillars. 

I was used to these types of puzzles. I’d encountered countless similar ones during my travels. Most of the items I’d sought out, and the places I’d explored, weren’t exactly readily accessible. That was part of the challenge, after all. Normally I like to think I’m pretty adept at figuring them out. And normally I know to keep my wits about me, and to realize that when it comes to these old puzzles, things aren’t always as they seem.

But like I said: I was tired. We all were.

We figured out which pictures corresponded to which posts and lined them up accordingly. Then we moved back towards the central pillar. Sapphire was given the honor of pressing the button since she’d figured out the solution. I’d never seen her look so pleased with herself as I did when she reached out and pressed her calloused palm down against that pillar.

And the floor opened up beneath us.

It was a trap. _Brynjolf hates traps._ I remember recalling Vex’s earlier words as we all plummeted below, all screaming at the top of our lungs. It was mostly from shock. The floor beneath wasn’t too far below, no more than ten or twelve feet. A broken ankle or wrist—or worse—certainly could’ve resulted from the fall, but we were lucky. Instinct likely kicked in, and we all knew how to fall, within reason, without inviting injury. 

I sat up, having rolled to my side upon impact, and looked up. The door—previously the floor we’d been standing on—closed above us, the metal screeching with disuse. Impenetrable darkness swiftly surrounded us.

“Everyone okay?” I asked, getting heavily to my feet.

“Yes,” said Vex, somewhere off to my right. 

“Good enough,” groaned Sapphire.

“I think I’m bleeding again,” said Niruin, through what sounded like gritted teeth. “But I’ll live.”

“Can you see anything?” asked Sapphire.

I knew the question was directed at me. “No,” I said. “Even I can’t see in total darkness.”

Unfortunately, we were also now standing in about an inch or so of water. It not only began to seep immediately into my boots, but it also had instantly put out our torches. 

There was a part of me, probably the really, really tired part, that started to wonder if this was it. If this was how it all ended: at the bottom of some ancient Nordic trap. I suspected Sapphire and Niruin were thinking the same. Luckily Vex was with us.

“Start looking for a way out,” she said, her voice as firm and steady as ever. “Count your steps. After twenty steps, return to where you were and try another direction.”

It turns out we were still in a fairly small-sized room. It appeared to be perfectly round in shape, the walls smooth and a little bit damp. It was Niruin who eventually found an opening. He called out to us, and we made our way towards the sound of his voice. We then ducked through the opening and, hands sliding along the stone walls, made our way cautiously forward.

Like a blessing from the Nine themselves, glowing mushrooms began to appear, their spongey shapes clinging to the cave walls. Finally, we were able to see—or at least I was. I volunteered to lead the way at that point, and the others readily agreed.

The passageway was small. I suspected it had at some point been underwater and at certain times may still be underwater. The side of the cave walls continued to be damp to the touch, feeding the glowing mushrooms, which were increasing in number the further we went. 

Unfortunately, the way forward itself was not so simple a progression. Here and there the passageway split off to the left or the right, sometimes in both directions. We did our best to move slowly and not proceed at random, and to double back if one direction went on for too long. Some of the paths led to dead ends, and we wanted to investigate each one of these, in essence, to scratch them off the list of viable exits. But it was slow going, and it was all based on chance.

Until I came across the arrow.

I stopped abruptly, blinking in the incredibly dim light, and just stared at it. It was drawn directly in front of me, where the passageway split left or right. It was drawn just beneath one of the glowing mushrooms. And it was pointing right.

“What?” asked Vex from behind.

“It’s an arrow,” I said.

“Where?” asked Sapphire.

I pointed ahead. The other three came forward, peering close at the rock wall. 

“I don’t see anything,” Vex finally said.

“Neither do I,” said Niruin. He looked back at me, and I realized he was only sort of vaguely staring in my direction. I suppose it was the first time I realized just how good my eyesight really is.

“Trust me,” I said, pointing right at it again. “It’s there.”

“What’s it look like?” asked Vex.

I thought that was an odd question, but I answered anyway. “Not very big. And kind of… squiggly. Like it was drawn in the dark.”

“Drawn with chalk?”

I blinked. How had she known?

“Yes,” I said. “I think so.” 

I stepped forward, coming to stand beside her and reached out, rubbing my thumb over the middle of the arrow. It rubbed off. The stone was smooth and relatively dry, too, as if someone had wiped it clean first.

I heard Vex sigh beside me. It was, I was surprised to realize, a sigh of relief.

“Brynjolf always carries chalk,” she said. “Especially when traveling alone. He says it’s saved him from getting lost in caves like this more than once. But if he drew this, I don’t know why he’d draw an arrow for himself in almost total darkness. He wouldn’t even be able to see it.”

“Unless he somehow managed to save his torch,” Sapphire pointed out.

“Maybe,” said Vex, but she didn’t sound convinced.

I retook the lead, and sure enough, another arrow appeared, then another, and another. We moved forward with greater confidence. I recognized a lightness to my own steps, my heart beginning to beat a bit faster. This meant there was a good chance Brynjolf was still alive, or at least had been very recently. The assassins, if they, too, had fallen through the pit—and there was no guarantee that they had—would not be able to see his arrows the way I could. 

Eventually, the procession of arrows led us to another room, the passageway opening up before us. Even I had difficulty telling in the darkness just how big or small the room was, but that sixth sense I tend to have, the one that tickles my brain with a mildly innate sense of spatial awareness, told me it was a fair size—not too large, but larger than the room filled with draugr sarcophaguses we’d encountered.

I moved a little away from the others, towards the center of the room. I gazed up at the ceiling, which twinkled above us with the light of thousands of glowing mushrooms; they also climbed the walls, though not in as many numbers. It was quite a vision.

“What now?” asked Vex, she and the others still hovering near the room’s entrance.

“I don’t—

I choked on the rest of my words, an arm going suddenly around my waist, even as the flat side of a knife pressed itself gently against my throat.

“Hmm,” said a voice near my ear, that familiar accent warm and lilting. “Good to see I haven’t lost my touch.”

My eyes widened, and I felt the blade lower, the man behind me chuckling. I whirled around, and noted that while he’d lowered his dagger, the other arm was still curled loosely around my waist.

“It’s you!” I said, which I acknowledge is probably, if not _the_ stupidest, certainly in the running for stupidest thing I’ve ever said.

He grinned. “It’s me.”

Then I think I astonished both of us when I grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him.

Honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m not an exhibitionist, believe it or not. And sure, it was dark, but it’s not like the others couldn’t see at all. And as soon as they heard Brynjolf’s voice, they’d all come running over—only to stop and stare at the two of us smooshing our faces together as if we were long lost lovers. My eyes were closed as tightly as my hands fisting his shirt, too—don’t ask me why—but I like to imagine that his remained open. Maybe I just figure the look of sheer surprise on his face must have been awfully cute.

“Wow,” said Sapphire. “Do we all get one of those?”

The sound of her voice made me pull away from the man before me, taking a quick step back from him before turning to blink at her and the others.

“Good to see you still alive,” said Vex. Nothing phased our Vex, bless her. 

“Alive and hale,” said Brynjolf. His arm had fallen back to his side, and he sheathed his dagger. “At least for now.”

“You know about the Brotherhood then?” asked Niruin.

“The Brotherhood?” 

The surprise in his voice was answer enough. Sapphire, Vex, Niruin, and I all exchanged a look. Well, they looked in the general direction of my face at least, which thankfully suggested that they couldn’t see how red my face no doubt was. 

I looked back at Brynjolf. 

“We _may_ have a bit of explaining to do,” I said.

Boy did we ever. I wasn’t quite sure how to begin to say, _I murdered our greatest patron, but only because she intended to murder you first. Oh, and caveat, I’m also kind of sort of madly in love with you._ I mean, that last part probably isn’t all that important in the grand scheme of things, at least not compared to the rest. But hey, like I said. I was tired. 

Also madly in love, minus the kind-of-sort-of. But maybe, for now, I’d leave that part out.


	9. Escape

Nothing surprised me less than learning that Brynjolf suspected all along that he was being followed—and that Maven Black-Briar may have finally turned her back on him.

“I suppose I knew,” he said. “On some level, at least. I can’t say I wasn’t suspicious. But at the same time I couldn’t imagine she’d have reason to do me in. I’ve towed the line for as long as I can remember. Still, I certainly entertained the possibility.”

We were all sitting down on a slightly raised part of the cave floor, the stone beneath us thankfully dry. We didn’t dare start a fire, though it was very, very cold—not as cold as it could get topside, but still very cold. I kept my eye on the entrance to the cave, the entryway through which we’d all entered. But we seemed to be alone, for now.

“You knew she might be double-crossing you,” said Vex. “And yet you went anyway.”

Brynjolf laughed, the sound more of an amused little huff. “Rather pitiful, isn’t it? But I always had Karliah in the back of my mind. I’d suspected for a long time now that Maven was behind her death. But I guess I just didn’t want to believe it.”

“Just think,” said Sapphire, “If Cal hadn’t stolen the map to the Black-Briar estate from your rooms, sneaked inside, and nearly gotten himself killed by ten of Maven’s finest guards, we’d never have known to come after you.”

He looked at me, incredulous. “I suppose I’ll be needing to change that lock now.”

“Okay,” I said, “I really feel like you’re focusing on the wrong thing here.”

He laughed. “Fair enough. Perhaps I should be thanking you instead for saving my life.”

“You should. I don’t nearly get myself killed for just anyone, you know.”

“Oh, please,” said Vex. “You only went because you wanted to know what was inside that damned box.”

“Well, that, too.”

“When exactly did you realize you were being set up?” asked Niruin.

I don’t think anyone else was capable of noticing in the surrounding darkness, but his arm had gotten very stiff. He needed proper healing.

Brynjolf sighed, leaning back on his hands. “To be honest, I suspected even before I left Riften. I’d never heard of the item she’d commissioned me to locate, and we all know about the rumors surrounding these caves. But it wasn’t until I fell through that bloody trap door that I knew it for certain. The guide she’d given me had fairly detailed instructions, and I followed them to the letter. And that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Aren’t you worried about the assassins following and finding you?”

“I can’t say that I am. Presumably, they know about the trap door. It’s possible they could have entered before you did. But if that’s the case, then where are they?” He shook his head. “No, I’d say it’s far more likely they’re somewhere else at present, probably waiting for the right time and place to fulfill their end of the bargain. Besides, with all of you here now, they’d be foolish to attempt an encounter in such a place as this.”

“You’re assuming there’s more than one,” I said. “What if there isn’t? A single assassin might think the odds too stacked against him now. He might’ve pulled out altogether.”

“That’s not exactly how the Dark Brotherhood works,” said Vex.

“I don’t imagine it is,” agreed Brynjolf. “Besides,” he added, flashing me a little grin, “I have my pride. I like to think Maven assumed it would require more than one assassin to take me out.”

“Well, she apparently though it would take ten guards to shut me up, so you’re probably right.”

“What I don’t get is how she knew you were going to be there,” said Sapphire. “Who hires all those guards and then sits in the shadows all creepy-like waiting for one tiny little thief?”

“One tiny little—Sapphire, I’m _literally_ the same height as you.”

“I know. And I’m not even tall for a woman!”

Vex snorted. “The night of the festival was the only night it would’ve made sense to break into that estate. Even I can figure that out.”

Brynjolf nodded, a grim look on his face. “And she has your card, lad. She has all our cards. In fact…” He looked hesitant to say more, but then evidently decided that he should. “I suppose it can’t hurt to admit as much now that she’s gone. But she knew enough about each of us to keep us honest—in a manner of speaking. I imagine she knew what you planned to do before you half-realized it yourself. She knew your habits, your history, your darkest secrets.” He peered at me through the darkness, once again apparently weighing whether he should go on. “She was going to bring you in. She was going to tell you what she knew. And trust me, it would have been enough.”

“I know,” I said with a lightness I didn’t quite feel.

He blinked. “You do?”

“And so does everyone else. And I know that you know. And I think it’s nice that you still let me kiss you.”

That seemed to startle him; then he sort of laughed and rubbed his face with one hand. I really think he was embarrassed.

“I can’t say you gave me much choice in the matter,” he finally said, teasing.

“I’m still sad I didn’t get one,” said Sapphire.

“He’s carried a flame for you for months now,” said Vex. “Probably since that first night. Have to wonder what it says about a guy who falls in love with his own kidnapper.”

“Pretty sure it was you who clocked me upside the head.”

“True. But it was Brynjolf’s idea.”

“Perhaps it’s time you all got a bit of sleep,” said Brynjolf, clearing his throat and VERY OBVIOUSLY ignoring the look of absolute betrayal I was aiming in his direction. “I can’t imagine you’ve had more than a few hours rest since leaving Riften. If we’re going to get out of this alive, I’ll need you all at your best.”

“You’ve got to be insane if you think we’re going to sleep now!” said Sapphire, which was kind of hilarious coming from a woman who could barely keep her eyes open at this point.

“Agreed,” said Niruin, “What about the assassins?”

“Like I said,” said Brynjolf, “They’re not about to attack us here. The Brotherhood are too clever for that. Besides, I’ll still be awake. I’ll know if they come.”

We honestly weren’t in any position to argue. After a bit of grumbling, we all lay down and tried to get as comfortable as we could. Our cloaks could double as blankets in a pinch, but it was still quite cold. The glowing mushrooms made surprisingly soft, albeit meager, cushions for our heads—luckily they stopped glowing once ripped from the cave walls. Niruin was a peach and allowed Sapphire to use his stomach as a pillow; I would’ve offered mine to Vex but there would’ve been no point as she would have refused. I could have asked Brynjolf for the use of his lap, but I still had some dignity, even after my earlier little display.

I could hear the breathing of the others start to even out, but try as I might, sleep evaded me when it really shouldn’t have. Not even adrenaline could keep a man awake this long.

I gazed out at the glowing walls through half-lidded eyes, a thought finally nipping at my brain.

“The arrows,” I said. I admit, my voice did sound very tired, even to my own ears. “I know why you drew them, even in the dark. It’s because you knew I could see them.”

“Perhaps,” said Brynjolf. I could hear the smile on his lips.

“You knew I would come after you.”

“I know you’re as stubborn as they come. Now close your eyes, or that’ll be the last kiss you ever get from me.”

I closed my eyes. Not surprisingly, sleep immediately overtook me.

* * *

We were none of us too happy when Brynjolf shook us back awake. It was impossible to tell how long we’d slept, but it certainly didn’t feel like enough. Judging from the headache that was beginning to pound right behind my eyes, I estimated no more than three or four hours. But it would have to do.

Sapphire redressed Niruin’s wound, my fellow Bosmer looking very grumpy as she did. I imagine his entire right side felt painful and stiff at this point, but he seemed more upset that he would be, for the most part, useless in a fight. I sympathized, but there really wasn’t much we could do for him at present.

Once we were ready, we set out, heading back into the dimly-lit underground tunnels. Brynjolf pulled me forward beside him, had me stretch my senses as far as they would go. Did I smell anything unusual in either direction? Did the air taste fresher? Could I feel even the barest hint of a breeze seeping in from some opening somewhere? He waited and listened patiently for my responses, encouraging me when I felt dubious about expressing something. I wasn’t used to people taking my unique abilities seriously—wasn’t used to sharing the very existence of those abilities at all, to be honest. But Brynjolf not only accepted that about me; he actively boosted my confidence in myself. I guess I’d lived most of my life trying to hide what I am and what I can do—even from myself. But that was just part of who and what he was. He brought out the best in his people. It was why we followed him.

I tried my best, but it was still mostly trial and error. At least I could easily recognize if we’d been down a certain path or not. Eventually, we did find our way out. I was eager to report that I could indeed feel a movement in the air, and pushed ahead before the others could stop me.

“This is it!” I called back to the others, my eyes squinting in the light.

The cave entrance opened up before an immense cavern, the insides of the mountain rising up before me on all sides. Eternally lit braziers, fueled, I’m certain, by magic, were placed in strategic locations, illuminating the area yet casting intense shadows as well—such light sources weren’t an unusual occurrence in places like this; nevertheless, I tended to steer well clear of them. I myself was standing on a stone platform supported by several meticulously carved out columns; a bridge led from the platform I was on to another, and then another. Other cave entrances, some connected, some now abandoned by the crumbling remains of the bridges that used to connect them, dotted the walls of the huge cavern.

“That’s quite an echo,” said Brynjolf. He and the others were still thirty or so feet behind me. “Be careful. You don’t know what…”

The rest of his words were a blur, as in an instant I became aware of something rushing towards me at an incredible speed. I ducked behind the nearest column, my heart racing as I watched the arrow fly past where I’d been standing and thunk against the hard stone wall behind me.

There was silence for a few seconds. The others had clearly paused. All I could hear was the sound of my own shocked, unsteady breathing.

“Was that an arrow?” asked Vex, her voice echoing from within the small cave.

“Uh,” I said. “Maybe.”

Silence. Then: “Ysmir’s balls. You’re an idiot. You could have been _killed_ —

“But I wasn’t. I mean, obviously. Honestly, I’m surprised I wasn’t. Whoever that is has _really_ good aim.”

“My guess would be a member of the Dark Brotherhood,” said Sapphire.

“Probably not the only one, either,” said Niruin.

“All right, children,” said Brynjolf, “Hush and let me think. Cal, are you safe?”

Though the edges of the platform disappeared to my right and left, there were no cave entrances aimed in my direction. I was safe.

“For now,” I said.

“Good. Describe for me what you see.”

Once I explained the appearance of the vast cavern and the interconnecting cave entrances and bridges, he seemed to know immediately where we were.

“That must be Gerta’s Womb. It’s close to the heart of the mountain, at least according to my map. These individual caves used to be where the lava flowed when the mountain was more active. The assassins are likely positioned on nearby platforms. Perfect for an ambush.”

A few heavy seconds of silence followed.

“All right,” he finally continued. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Vex and I are going to rush out of the cave entrance. We’ll dart to either side of you and take up position behind the farthest column on either end. That’ll likely tempt the assassin to take aim. You look out then, spot the movement, and take them out.”

My jaw dropped.

“Are you insane?!”

“He could be shot!” said Vex.

“And so could we,” agreed Brynjolf.

“Never mind that,” I said. “That’s placing a lot of faith in my ability to spot them that quickly, not to mention draw and fire a _perfectly aimed arrow_.”

Vex snorted. “That part I’m not worried about.”

“So far I really like this plan,” said Sapphire. “Since it doesn’t involve me at all.”

“Oh, you’ll get your turn,” said Brynjolf. “Now. Are we ready?”

I shook my head, letting out a breath. This was absurd. I reached behind and carefully drew an arrow from my quiver, notching it to my bow. At this point I had a general idea as to where the assassin who’d fired the arrow was standing, so at least I’d know where to look—assuming they hadn’t moved.

“Ready,” I said.

“Vex?”

“Ready.”

“All right,” continued Brynjolf. “…Now.”

I saw them as they emerged from the cave entrance. He went left; she went right. I had a feeling which the assassin would be most drawn to. It was the whole reason they were here, after all.

I turned away from the column and faced outward, towards the cavern. My arm was already drawing my bow back. And yes, I saw it: a flash of movement, shifting quickly, the tip of the assassin’s arrow moving from Brynjolf’s direction to mine. But they weren’t quick enough. I released the string of my bow, and the arrow sliced through the air between us and imbedded itself right between the assassin’s eyes. I watched as the body fell from the platform the man had been standing on and plummeted down into the depths below.

I ducked back behind the column.

“All right,” I said. “Well. That wasn’t so hard.”

“Sapphire, Niruin, you’re next,” said Brynjolf. “When I give the word, you come out. Niruin, you head towards me, Sapphire, you head towards Vex. Cal, if there’s another assassin, they aren’t going to fall for the trick a second time. They’ll be looking for you. You’ll oblige them, but I’ll be stepping out this time as well. While they’re focused on you, I’ll shoot.”

“You don’t have Cal’s aim,” said Vex. “Or his speed.”

“No, but I’ll get their attention. Cal can then take them out once they’re back to focusing on me.”

“Glad to see the plan is still insane,” I said. “Now you’re using yourself as bait.”

“It’s not all that different from what we just did, lad. Besides, I have faith in your ability to get this done.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Now, if the peanut gallery is ready—

“I assume you’re referring to us,” said Sapphire.

“Right you are. On the count of three. One… Two… Three!”

Sapphire and Niruin both lacked the speed and grace of the previous two. Of course, that was completely relative; Sapphire was one of the most skilled fighters in the guild, if not all of Riften. And Niruin’s injury slowed him down a significant amount. But both managed to duck quickly behind their respective columns. I saw Brynjolf step out and take aim. Even as his arrow flew, I stepped out next, drawing my bow and aiming in the direction of his flying arrow. I saw the assassin and let loose.

And felt a sharp, intense pain slice through my left shoulder.

I staggered back, more shocked than anything.

My right hand dropped my bow reflexively, and I ducked back behind my column, kneeling down and gritting my teeth.

“What happened?!” asked Vex.

“Two archers,” said Brynjolf. He swore under his breath. “We got the first, but the second… All right, we’re returning to the cave.”

“What?” I said, my right hand gripping my upper left arm hard. “Are you insane? We can’t go back. We’ll never find the way out!”

“And without your bow we’re sitting targets here. Can you stand?”

I groaned, panting. “Of course I can bloody stand.”

I leaned back against the column, pushing myself backwards and back up to my feet.

“All right,” said Brynjolf. “Are we ready? On the count of three.”

He counted, and we ran. I made it back to the cave entrance first, obviously, followed by Sapphire and Niruin, then Brynjolf and Vex. I heard the clatter of two more arrows hitting stone. We’d evidently surprised our pursuers, who hadn’t anticipated us retreating back inside.

I knew what had to come next. I fixed Sapphire with what I have to assume was the most baleful look imaginable, but that didn’t stop her from crouching down before me. I realized then that I’d slid back down to the cave floor, my back against the glowing walls.

“Right,” she muttered, “Not how I ever envisioned getting to undress you.”

We cut most of the shaft off the arrow first, then she and I carefully remove my cloak, jacket, and shirt. I was surprised by how little blood was trickling down from the wound, where the arrowhead and remainder of the shaft were embedded.

“This is going to hurt,” she warned, gripping the protruding remains of the shaft.

“Cal, look at me,” said Brynjolf, crouching down beside us. He took my right hand in his. “When we return to Riften, I’ll take you to the Bee and Barb. We’ll get drunk on another one of Talen-Jei’s concoctions. How does that sound?”

I got a little lost staring up into his eyes, which I’m sure was sort of the whole point. Also he was holding my hand again. I smiled. Then screamed.

“There,” said Sapphire, tossing the arrow aside. “Sure wish Niruin hadn’t used up all my salve. There’s a high chance this is going to get infected.”

“My apologies,” said Niruin. He didn’t sound all that apologetic.

“Great,” said Vex. “Now we’ve got two wounded and no way out of this damn cave.”

“Not quite,” said Brynjolf. “Now that I know where we are I can find us another way out. There are at least several more exits. This just happens to be the closest. Presumably, that’s why the assassins were waiting for us.”

“Won’t they just move to the others?” asked Niruin.

“Perhaps. But at least we’d be able to face them head on.”

And now with the two best archers among us incapacitated, this was by far the safer bet. I’d taken out two of the assassins; there was no telling how many remained, but surely there couldn’t be that many.

Once again, it fell to me to lead the way. I felt inexplicably very tired, the dull pain in my left shoulder throbbing in time with my heartbeat. Brynjolf kept a hand wrapped lightly around my right arm. At first I told myself it was so he could keep beside me in the near darkness. Eventually, I had to admit that he was offering me support. And I was leaning more and more on him the further we went.

“Wait,” I said, panting lightly now. “Let’s rest for a moment. We’ve been walking for hours.”

“No we haven’t,” said Vex. “How much further to the next entrance?”

“It shouldn’t be long,” said Brynjolf.

I took a shaky breath and gently pulled my arm away from Brynjolf’s, bringing my hand up to wipe at my brow. I felt a little nauseated, too. I blinked, the soft green glow of the mushrooms swirling briefly before me.

“Shit,” I heard Sapphire mutter. She was beside me now, and I felt the back of her cool hand come to rest against my brow. “He has a fever.”

“Can infection set in that quickly?” asked Brynjolf, sounding surprised.

“No. My guess is the arrow was poisoned.”

“Makes sense,” said Niruin. “Assassins.”

Vex growled. “Great. Now what? They’re picking us off one-by-one! At this rate there won’t be any of us _left_ to escape!”

“I’m hardly at death’s door,” said Niruin, his dry voice sounding slightly annoyed.

“No, you’re not,” agreed Brynjolf. He looked at me next. “How do you feel?”

“Like I might throw up, so watch your boots. But other than that, I’m okay to continue.”

He nodded, and we continued. It wasn’t too long before I began to sense light ahead of us, the air smelling a bit fresher, as well. I warned the others, and we all paused, crouching down. Vex silently handed me one of her daggers. I gripped it in my right hand, my fingers folding around the hilt.

Brynjolf led us forward. There were two assassins—one stood at the cave’s opening, staring back at it, clearly standing guard. The other stood further out, leaning against one of the columns. That one had a bow; the other did not.

They were close, no more than twenty feet away. Brynjolf couldn’t draw his own bow; the sound would alert them to our presence. But we couldn’t let that archer turn and fire.

I stood and raised my right arm, ignoring the searing pain from the resulting stretch of torn muscles across my left shoulder. I hurled Vex’s dagger back and threw it, the blade embedding itself in the back of the assassin’s skull.

The others charged forward, but it was now five against one, albeit two of the five injured. The assassin blocked Brynjolf’s first swing, but then Sapphire’s came. He dodged and blocked that one, only to find Brynjolf’s sword slicing into his side. It was over quickly.

“No!” cried Vex, rushing forward. The body of the assassin I’d killed was slumped over and gradually sliding sideways. Before she could get to it, it finally fell over, plunging down into the depths of the mountain, and taking her dagger with it.

An arrow thunked the column near her, about two feet above her head.

She reacted quickly, straightening and shifting behind the column. Her eyes now facing us were wide. I think she was slightly embarrassed.

“That’s some bad aiming,” I said. My voice sounded slightly slurred to my ears. I thought that was odd since I hadn’t been drinking.

Brynjolf hummed under his breath. “We’ve taken out their best archers,” he said. “All right, everyone. This is it. I’m going to run, and you’re going to all follow me. Is that understood?”

We all agreed.

“Cal behind me, and Sapphire behind him. Keep him running, lass.”

“Got it.”

They were talking about me like I wasn’t even there. It annoyed me, but for some reason I couldn’t find it in me to protest. Maybe those four hours of sleep were starting to catch up with me. I was beginning to feel rather deathly tired.

Brynjolf took off. I followed, Sapphire behind me, Niruin behind her, then, finally, Vex darting out from behind her column and bringing up the rear. As we crossed the stone bridge before us, I was aware of an arrow flying wildly overhead. A few seconds later, there was another, then another. But none found its mark, and eventually we made it to another platform, then another bridge, then into a different cave, this one not shrouded in darkness. The assassins must have come this way, for the torches lining the walls were sputtering with life. We occasionally stepped over the body of draugr, too—the assassins had _definitely_ come this way then. This cave wasn’t the same as the caves we’d been traversing through, either; this one was taller and wider, more widely used.

It wasn’t longer before I began to hear the sounds of pursuit.

“We’re being followed,” I said.

I must have sounded awful because Brynjolf paused and looked back at me. He came up to me then, holding my chin lightly with one hand and peering intently down into my eyes. Then he sighed.

“Yeah,” said Vex, coming to stand beside us. “He’s not looking so good.”

“We need to keep going,” said Sapphire.

“Yes,” I said. “Because we’re being followed. Or maybe nobody heard that part.”

I was annoyed. I’m not sure why. I couldn’t seem to stop shivering, though I doubted any of the others could tell. The urge to throw up had passed at least.

“He’s right,” said Niruin. “I can hear them now.”

Brynjolf nodded. “All right.” He looked at me. “If you start to feel tired, think about that drink we’re going to have.”

“I think I’m too tired for drinks,” I said. I was definitely slurring now. And I really was tired. I could’ve lain down right there if he’d let me. Plus the tips of my fingers were beginning to feel numb. At least the wound itself didn’t hurt anymore.

Now Brynjolf looked _really_ worried.

“We’ll have to slacken the pace,” he said to the others. “They may catch us, but we’ll be ready for them. Niruin, keep your ears up. Sapphire, stay near him and stay ready. Vex, you’re in the middle.”

He kept a firm grip on my right arm now as we continued. We no longer ran but walked at a brisk pace. My toes were going numb, too, and I heard my boots occasionally scuffing against the floor. At times I felt a little unsure where exactly it was we were going, or why we were in such a damned hurry to get there. Then reality would snap back into place, and panic would nestle itself into my gut. I could _not_ start losing my mind—not here, not now.

We’d been moving downhill for some time—not heading down into the earth but more towards the base of the mountain, leaving its bowels behind. Brynjolf’s map assured us that this was a reliable exit. It was far from the tomb entrance we’d originally entered through, but that didn’t matter at this point. We needed to get out of the mountain and back to the surface.

Our progress came to an abrupt halt when we entered a medium-sized room bearing only two exits: one we’d just come through, and the other barred by a hard, iron grate.

“Damn it!” Brynjolf released his hold on my arm to withdraw his map, his brows drawing tightly together. “That’s not supposed to be there.”

“Seems like they’re always one step ahead of us,” said Sapphire.

Vex knelt before the grate, her fingers running absently down the bars and up the sides.

“Niruin,” she called over her shoulder. He came forward, and together they continued to investigate, searching for a lock or any kind of mechanism that would release the bars and allow us to pass through.

“Stop.”

We all paused and looked up. There was a platform hugging the wall of one side of the room, supported by more columns and lined with ancient shelves, their contents crumbled beyond recognition. Beyond the columns was yet another cave leading back further into the mountain. And standing in the middle of that platform was a woman, her clothing marking her as a member of the Brotherhood. She stood with her hand resting on a small pillar, her palm over a flat, round button.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Brynjolf’s hands curl into fists. Her hand over that button was probably the only thing preventing him from reaching for his bow. There was no telling what pressing it would do.

“Our contract involves only you, Brynjolf. We are willing to let your companions go if you agree to stay behind. We do not kill unnecessarily.”

“Is that why you stuck an arrow through one of them?” he asked. His voice sounded very hard. It took me a second to realize he was talking about me.

“We don’t hesitate to do what needs to be done in order to fulfill a contract. Your friend was protecting you by killing us. In order to get to you, we had to take him down.”

“This whole conversation is moot,” said Vex. “We’re not leaving without Brynjolf.”

The assassin was silent for a moment. Then: “Very well. Understand that when I press this button, this area will begin to flood. It will be a slow death. The caves will fill up first, trapping you in rooms like this one. Eventually, you’ll drown.”

“And you with us,” said Brynjolf.

“Yes,” said the assassin. “As I said, we are willing to do whatever is necessary to fulfill a contract. That is the bargain we have all agreed to make.”

“That’s ridiculous!” said Vex. “The woman you made the contract with is dead! You’re not longer obligated to do a damned thing by her!”

“She has paid us our price, and now we must deliver. _That_ is all that matters.”

The rest of the assassins entered the room then, their footsteps so light I was the only one to notice them at first. They’d finally caught up with us. There were three of them. I could tell from their eyes—the rest of their faces were hidden behind black strips of cloth—that they knew what their fellow was determined to do. And they were just as willing to give their lives.

They unsheathed their weapons and regarded us silently.

“Niruin,” said Brynjolf, calmly pulling out his bow. “Stay on that grate. Cal, stay near him.”

He notched an arrow and drew the bow back, staring up at the assassin on the platform. “You’re making the wrong decision, lass. I feel obliged to tell you that.”

“Perhaps,” she said. The sound of the button clicking into place echoed within the room, a second before Brynjolf released his arrow, its tip finding its way into her heart.

The other three attacked, Vex and Sapphire meeting them head on. Brynjolf quickly drew his sword and joined them. I heard the low groan of heavy doors sliding into place throughout parts of the mountain, no doubt cutting off our access back up to the immense cavern. The sound of rushing water came next, pulsing and pushing against the stone. Finally it burst out of a duct near the ceiling, spraying us all, though it was nearer the fighters than Niruin and myself.

I leaned against the wall, my arms wrapped around myself, shivering. “How’s it coming?”

“Won’t be long now,” said Niruin. He was working very methodically at a set of gears which had been hidden behind a piling of rocks. Hiding them was merely a slight delay tactic; the average adventurer would be hard-pressed to make heads or tails of the mechanism itself, but Niruin seemed to know what he was doing. I looked back at the rest of our friends.

The fighters were all evenly matched. All six remained standing. The assassins had the advantage of being more alert; presumably they weren’t as sleep deprived as we were. They also fought with the calm certainty of death: they accepted that they were going to die, and if anything, they were merely trying to delay Brynjolf’s escape so that the flooding could do the rest.

I picked up one of the rocks, my numbing fingers curling awkwardly around it, and threw it. My aim was off; I hit the man in the shoulder, merely surprising him. That moment of confusion was enough to give Brynjolf an advantage; his sword slid into the assassin, ending his life.

That turned the tables. Brynjolf now aided Sapphire; the assassin held his own against two skilled fighters, but not for long. Once he was down, Vex’s opponent was quickly dealt with.

At the same time, I heard a clicking sound. I turned, just in time to watch the iron bars of the grate get sucked back down into the earth. Our way forward was open.

There was at least a foot of water in the room at this point. I wasn’t sure if the numbness creeping up my legs was from the poison or the icy cold water now.

“Everyone MOVE!” said Brynjolf. He made the others all go first before finally grabbing me and hurrying after them. The water flowed more rapidly as we made our way, the path of the cave sloping downward, at times quite sharply. Here and there it split off to the left or right, sometimes opening into more rooms or caverns. Brynjolf called to the others, telling them which path to take. He’d done his job studying that map, I’ll give him that.

And the water roared all around us. One foot became two feet of water. We would be swimming soon. Finally, the cave opened up into one last cavern, water pouring down into a deep, ice-cold underground lake. The water was so clear, reflecting the stalactites above, but we could still see straight down to the rocky bottom as well. Luckily a relatively dry ledge continued along the edge of the lake, and beyond that—the mouth of a cave, bright daylight streaming through, carrying with it that typical cold rush of Skyrim mountain air.

I was so dizzy. My eyes clung to that beautiful vision, the brightness of day welcoming me back with open arms. I wanted to fall forward toward it. Instead, I simply fell.

Luckily, Brynjolf still had hold of my arm. His other arm looped quickly around my waist, and soon I realized he was carrying me. I closed my eyes. My entire body felt numb; I no longer felt any pain at all in my left shoulder. I wondered idly if I’d been miraculously healed. Perhaps one of the Nine had finally taken pity on me and was smiling down at me.

“No falling asleep,” said a familiar voice. It was normally so lilting and warm, but now it was husky, strained with some uncertain emotion. It annoyed me enough to make me open my eyes again.

“I’m very tired,” I said.

“I know,” said the voice. “You can sleep once we reach Riften. I promise. Then we’ll have that drink.”

Someone was very persistent about having a drink with me. I hoped he was handsome. I laughed at the thought, though all that came through, I think, was a slight smile. Of course he was handsome. He’d danced with me and kissed my hand. The thought brought me warmth, and I smiled again because now I was no longer cold. I felt wonderful.

Then the sun was in my eyes. I squinted them half-closed, turning my head slightly. The sun was bloody annoying.

I felt myself being lowered to the ground. My feet weren’t feeling much anymore, but I was conscious of my legs resting against the hard ground, stalky grass prickling through my pants. The rest of me leaned against a warm chest.

“Shore’s bones, he looks bad,” said a hushed voice.

“I don’t know what to do,” said the husky voice buried within the chest I was cradled against. “I need to get him back to Riften. But we’re miles from the horses.”

“The Teller family don’t live far from here. They may have a horse.”

“Maybe. And if they don’t?”

“Call Neve,” I said.

Well, they needed a horse, and I had one. It made sense.

“That’s absurd,” someone said. “She’s leagues away.”

“She’ll come...” My eyes were closed again. The person holding me was so warm. That didn’t make a great deal of sense, considering we were all half-soaked in freezing cold water, caught in the crosswinds at the base of a mountain.

“She knows you, Vex,” I continued. Even the sound of my own voice came as if through a tunnel. “Just call her...”

“How?”

It was a moment before I could answer the question. Everything was so confusing right now. Even figuring out which words to form inside my head and send out into the world was becoming difficult.

“Whistle," I finally said. "She’ll hear you.”

And so the sound of Vex whistling between two fingers began to echo throughout the valley. The others began talking again, despairing, preparing to begin the slow journey around the mountain. Was Brynjolf tired? No, he could keep going. I wasn’t that heavy. The voice sounded very stubborn.

Even in my half-awake state I could sense the shock of everyone around me when the distant pounding of hooves could be heard.

“Holy shit,” breathed a voice. “She bloody came.”

“That’s not natural,” said a calm, male voice.

“You mean you can’t do that? Huh.”

It wasn’t long before I felt a soft, velvety nose pushing against my face, warm, moist breath puffing against my skin.

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” said the warm voice. I felt myself being lifted up again. “There, now. Hold steady while I set him up here. You’ll let me come, too, won’t you? Ah, you’re a good lass…”

I was astride my horse, the familiar wide barrel of her chest spreading my legs out beneath me. A warm body quickly vaulted up behind me, one arm wrapping snuggly around me. I leaned gratefully back against the other rider’s chest.

“Do you think you can find your way back to the other horses?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem.” There was silence, then: “For fuck’s sake, go. We’ll be fine. Save your damned boyfriend.”

No amused little chuckle or returning little barb. Just the hastily muttered “Ha!” to the horse, the legs behind mine kicking lightly into her sides. She took off, no doubt needing little in the way of guidance. Neve always knew where home was, and when I needed it most.

“You’ll be all right,” said an anxious voice, close to my ear. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I thought that was such a kind thing to say. Then I finally blacked out.


	10. And in the end

I’ve never lost consciousness for more than a few seconds.

Well, until that fortuitous night with Brynjolf and Vex, of course.

Before that, I’d hit my head once when slipping down the side of a ridiculously steep mountain path. There was allegedly a long abandoned Dwemer ruin housing some insanely ancient and priceless relic somewhere at the top—you know, the usual. Anyway, I came to having slid at least ten feet down. Had a pounding headache for weeks and couldn’t do a damned thing about my hair since pulling it back felt like I was splitting my head in two all over again. Then there was the time I got careless and tripped a wire which released some noxious gas. I tried to get out as fast as I could, and it didn’t kill me the way it was evidently supposed to—I mean, obviously—but I was on my knees by the time I reached the cave entrance. The next thing I knew I was on my back, gazing up at the lip of the cave.

I don’t think I was out for more than a couple seconds both times. I still think it’s pretty damned scary just how right Brynjolf was about Vex—that she really does know just where to hit a man to knock him out as safely and painlessly as possible. If you’d asked me at the time, I’m sure I would’ve said that there was no way for a person to be out longer than that and not suffer, like, irreparable brain damage. Of course, it turns out I would have been wrong.

For the most part, anyway.

When I finally did wake up, it was to the very slow realization that I wasn’t dead. Which is probably a funny thing to say, but it was true. I’d really expected to die on Neve’s back, with Brynjolf’s arms around me. The odds had been pretty stacked against me. I’d been shot by a Dark Brotherhood arrow, after all. They aren’t known for missing. Except this time I think they did miss, like maybe they meant to hit closer to my heart or some particularly important artery, I don’t know; I’m not a healer or a priest. I just know I was supposed to die, but then for some reason I woke up.

The light was painful. And yet I could tell I was lying down in some sort of dark alcove, with only a single lamp in the corner to illuminate my surroundings. But it was blindingly painful.

I closed my eyes again and took a deep breath. It wasn’t as deep as I was expecting it to be.

I turned my head, just a little. And that’s when I realized I couldn’t really feel anything below the vicinity of my collarbone.

“You’re awake! Thank the Nine…!”

A shape loomed fuzzily above me, and it took me a moment to realize he—because “it” was a he, of course, namely Brynjolf—had taken my hand. I couldn’t feel my hand, so it was rather strange to see someone holding it above me.

I tried to answer him. I thought of something clever, like, _I must be, because if this is the afterlife the priests have definitely been lying to us._ But for some reason I couldn’t.

“It’s all right,” he said, his free hand smoothing down my hair— _that_ I could actually feel. “Don’t let it upset you too much. The healer said you’d have difficulty speaking at first. For now you just need to sleep a little more—let your mind heal along with your body.”

I had no idea what he was talking about. And I had so many questions. Where were the others, and were they all right? Was _he_ all right? Were there any repercussions for denying the Dark Brotherhood their quarry? But all I could do was stare up at him.

Even that didn’t last very long. My eyelids began to feel heavy again, and soon I was no longer staring up into Brynjolf’s concerned face. I wasn’t staring at anything at all. I was dreaming.

Not very interesting dreams, just the everyday sort of stuff. But I was conscious throughout of the fact that I hadn’t dreamed before that. Which made me think this was a good kind of sleep, and it was okay for me to sleep a little more. Maybe when I woke up I’d be able to tell Brynjolf how silly his face looks when he’s worried. I had dreamed of opening my mouth and all sorts of things falling out of it, none of them words, of course. But that’s dreams for you.

The next time I woke up, I was alone. I took that to mean that I was out of danger. I lay there in near darkness for a long time, staring up at the ceiling of my little alcove. They’d dampened the single lantern which had been hanging in the corner of the room. My nose detected the faint odor of healing salves and chemicals, masked under the cloying presence of incense. Soft voices conversed not far from where I was. Someone coughed. Another person was weeping quietly.

A temple of Kynareth then. I’d never visited the one in Riften. It was very tiny and had none of the splendor of the one in Whiterun.

A priest eventually stopped by and saw that I was awake.

“Not for long,” I said with a smile, answering her happily astonished inquiry. The words slurred horribly as they left my mouth. My eyelids were getting heavy again.

This happened several more times. Each time I could speak better, and could feel more and more of my body, the nerves tingling painfully. Sometimes Brynjolf was there; sometimes a priest would see me awake then leave; then Brynjolf would soon reappear to take her place. Each time he looked more relaxed, better rested.

“Do you live here now?” I joked.

My speech was much better now, and, with a little help, I could even sit up a little. My legs were still dead weight, but I had some feeling back in my right arm.

A smile flit across his face. “If I answer that truthfully it may make me seem rather pitiful.”

I snorted. “Oh stop. You know you’d do the same for any of the others.”

“I suppose I would. I don’t know that any of them would give me as hard a time as you’re giving me now. With the possible exception of Vex.”

“I don’t think there’s any ‘possible’ about it. She’d be on her feet turning cartwheels by now just to spite you.”

And there it was.

Maybe Vex would be up walking right now, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t even _feel_ my feet, let alone stand on them. Just before Brynjolf arrived an acolyte had had to carry me to the toilet. You don’t know the true depths of humiliation until you have to be carried by a young Redguard boy with the upper body strength of an orsimer chieftain who then sets you down over a pot so you can relieve yourself. And then he offers to help, not because he’s a pervert or anything but because he’s a nice boy and means to take orders and become a priest himself. And you’ve got to find it in you to tell this friendly young fellow that you can hold your own pecker down, thank you very much, for all your fingers are still fumbly and numb from, you know, nearly being poisoned to death.

“Well,” I finally said, breaking the rather awkward silence, “How bad is it?”

“You’re alive. That’s all that matters.”

I was struck by the huskiness of his voice, the anger vying with relief just beneath the surface. I suppose that makes me a fool for believing no one in their right mind would ever care so much whether I lived or died. I can’t say I was sorry for being proven wrong. But it felt wrong somehow. I didn’t know what I’d ever done in the first place to deserve that kind of regard.

“Maybe that’s all that matters to _you_ ,” I finally said. “But as for me I’d like to be able to walk again sometime soon. Using the shitter on my own is pretty high up on the list of priorities, too.”

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.

“Do you want me to be honest with you?” he asked.

Well _that’s_ not really the response you want to hear.

“Yes,” I said.

He took a deep breath, letting it out again as he straightened in the chair beside my bed.

“The priests are calling it a miracle you’re even alive. They say the gods themselves are behind your recovery, and I’ve no doubt they’ve had some hand in it. The poison was meant to kill, and to kill quickly. You should have collapsed far earlier—not hours after being shot.”

“To be honest, I didn’t even know it was that bad until I started to lose feeling in my feet.”

He nodded. “Full-body paralysis was meant to be nearly instantaneous. The healer who assisted the priests said the fever you had immediately afterward was your body’s attempt to fight off the poison. Most humans or mer would have died. But you didn’t.”

Oh. So this was a half-blood abomination kind of thing.

Figures.

Brynjolf laughed gently, and I looked up again, meeting his eyes.

“Don’t look so heavy-hearted. Your heritage saved your life, lad. Think of it as a final gift from your parents. And don’t worry,” he added, seeming to suss out the source of my trepidation. “I didn’t tell him a thing. He’s inclined to side with the priests on this. Kynareth herself must have opened her arms to you and breathed the life back into you. Or so he believes.”

I shifted uncomfortably on my cot. “Maybe she did.”

“Maybe. I’m of the mind Mara had a bit to do with it as well. I was ready to burn her temple to the ground if you never opened those eyes of yours again. I just couldn’t accept that she’d allow us to meet only to have _this_ happen.”

Ah, so it was like that, was it? I met his eyes again, and he was trying not to smile. I suspect he knew I could tell he was blushing, too, despite the dim lighting.

“Probably best if you just keep going,” I said.

He coughed, laughing. “You’re probably right. In any case, the gods may have had their hands in it, but I at least stand convinced it was your blood that kept you from crossing over into Sovngarde.” He paused, giving me a curious look. “Though I suppose that isn’t the Bosmer way.”

“No, but I’ve lived my whole life here in Skyrim. My mother married a Nord, after all. Though she once told me in secret that she thought these northern gods were all hogwash and that true elves vanish into the ground and become one with the earth.”

“There’s a lot to be said for having the conviction to stick to one’s beliefs.”

“She was stubborn as a mule, you mean to say. She was. And so am I. But unlike her, I do believe in the gods. As for Sovngarde, I don’t see as how I’ve done much to earn my place there, and I’m not sure they’d have me if I did.”

“Mm. It’s the Dreamsleeve for us both then.”

“Probably. At least let me come back a rich man this next go round.”

Brynjolf threw his head back, laughing. The warm sound was music to my ears, and I allowed myself the tiniest of admissions: that I’d say or do just about anything to hear him laugh like that.

“Tell me about the others,” I said. “Are they all right?”

“They’re well. Niruin’s arm has been looked at. He should make a full recovery within the next few weeks.”

“That’s good to hear. No more trouble with the Brotherhood?”

He shook his head. “None so far. I believe those hired to kill me perished within the ruins. And seeing as how the person they made the original contract with is no longer around, they appear to be willing to drop the matter.”

“Still, probably not a good idea to go blathering on about it in public.”

“You’re right about that. I suspect they might change their tune if we let it be known that a target of theirs had escaped unharmed. It’s a bit of a stalemate at this point, I’d say.”

That seemed as good an outcome as any. The Brotherhood and the Thieves Guild were on opposite sides of the same coin in many respects. Not that anyone in the guild regularly took to killing people, but we were hardly a gang of innocents. Perhaps we were both a little bit like animals who’d agreed to use the same watering hole at specific times of the day so as to avoid conflict.

Silence fell between us then, and I knew we were both avoiding the real topic at hand. I found myself staring down at my legs under the blanket. It was strange, like looking at something that no longer belonged to me. Yet I could hardly mourn the loss of something that was still lying right there before me.

“How long?” I finally asked, forcing a bit of lightness into my voice—lightness I definitely didn’t feel.

Brynjolf frowned at me, his brows coming together. But I think he knew what I meant.

“Until I can stand again,” I said, clarifying the obvious. “Walk. Use my hands. String a bow?”

The last was a question that I didn’t, truthfully, want to hear the answer to.

Brynjolf was silent for a moment, then:

“They don’t know.” He looked at me, and I hated the pity I saw in his eyes. “They’re surprised you’re able to do as much as you’re doing now. The fact that you can speak, sit up on your own, even move your right arm…”

He trailed off, the pity turning to something deeper, and he moved his chair closer, taking my good hand in his.

“Hey,” he continued, “It’s going to be all right. You’re strong. And we’ll help you. You know we all will.”

Oh. It’s because I was crying. I don’t mean I’d fallen into hysterical sobbing or anything; I mean I was just sitting there, staring back at him, and his face had gotten quite blurry, and I realized there was something about to drip off the side of my cheek.

I sniffed and wiped my dead left hand across my face.

“What an asset to the team,” I said. I meant to laugh, but didn’t. “Sprawled out on my ass all day while everyone else is off filling the guild’s coffers.”

“You are an asset,” he said, squeezing the hand in his. “You’re clever. You’ve got a head full of information about damned nearly every nook and cranny in this godsforsaken country. And you make us laugh.”

Funnily enough, that made _me_ laugh. “Tell that to Vex. And Niruin.”

“They laugh in their own way. They adore you, lad. You know that.”

“You’re lying, but thank you. And yes, I know.”

I watched him reach into his pockets, fumbling around for something until he pulled out a bit of cloth—probably for polishing his sword or something equally mundane, but the musty smell soothed me nonetheless. I tried to wipe my face with my fumbling right hand, but he retook the cloth gently from me and did so himself, dabbing and wiping carefully under each eye.

“Gee,” I said, sniffing the bit of snot I could feel primed and ready to begin sliding out from under my nose, “this is definitely everything I’d ever dreamed it could be. I’m sure I’m the most alluring thing you’ve ever laid eyes on right now.”

“I don’t know about alluring,” he said, smiling ever so slightly. “I’m not sure that would be entirely appropriate. But beautiful?” He reached over and brushed a no doubt very dirty and very greasy strand of hair behind my ear. “Always.”

Well. And this is the part where I say something to hide my embarrassment.

“Always?” I snorted. “Even when I haven’t bathed in gods know when? I can’t imagine what I must smell like.”

“At the moment I smell naught but the damned incense the priests try to strangle the air with in this place.” He looked at me, arching a brow. “If you’re feeling dirty, I offer my services, such as they are.”

I goggled at him, not a little surprised that he’d be so brazen.

He sucked in a breath, choking on his own laughter. “For a bath, you scamp! I meant for a bath! And here I thought that was being forward enough!”

I smiled despite myself. “I like you when you’re being forward. Well, I pretty much like you all the time. But definitely when you’re being forward.”

He chuckled a little more, still recovering, even having to wipe at his eyes a bit. The look he gave me was warm and teasing.

“You liked it when I asked you to dance,” he said.

“You’re trying to make me blush. It’s not going to work. But yes, I did.”

“And when I kissed your hand?”

“Absolute worst part of my evening. I spent hours trying to scrub it off.”

He wasn’t having any of it. His mouth pulled into a little smile, but no laughter bubbled out of him this time. He leaned forward a little, his face drawing a little closer to mind.

“I’m in love with you,” he said, his free hand coming up to touch the side of my face. Which, again, I’m sure was very, very dirty, with scraggly little red hairs poking out all over the bottom half. “You know that, don’t you?”

“I may have caught an inkling, yes,” I said.

He smirked. “Saucy lad.” Then he leaned in and kissed me.

It was a very sweet kiss, maybe the sweetest I’d ever shared with someone. It made me start crying again. Not for sappy reasons, but because here I was, utterly devastated, but this man was in love with me, and by the Nine, I loved him back. He didn’t mind the tears; he wiped them away with his thumb, my eyes fluttering closed so he could kiss them as well. I wanted him to climb into bed with me, but there wasn’t room. Not for sex. I just wanted to be near him. I needed to be near someone right now, but most of all him.

Instead, he held me as well as he could and we kissed again. And I cried against his chest, weeping for my poor dead feet, and my limp hand, and my bow that I would probably never pick up again. He didn’t cry, but his fingers curled into the fabric of the clothing the priests had dressed me in, and his lips were pressed together very tightly. Then they pressed themselves against my temple, one hand stroking through my hair.

“It’s all right,” he kept saying. “I’m here. I’m here.”

Afterward I just wanted to sleep. He stayed with me until I did. He was not always there when I woke up, but the priests fetched him whenever they saw that I was awake again. We would just talk, his hand holding mine; he’d tell me about the guild and its members. He asked me if some of the others could come and see me. Not yet, I said.

Whatever medicine the healers had me on had dampened my appetite considerably, and I’d lost a bit of weight as a consequence. Perversely I told myself that this would only make it easier for my poor legs to try and hold me up, should they ever decide to start working again. Whenever I told Brynjolf things like that he didn’t smile, only pursed his lips together and looked down at his hands. So I stopped telling him.

I was given leave to return “home” after a few days. The priests all pretended like they thought I had a lovely little cottage to return to, but, thanks to Brynjolf’s presence, everyone knew I would be returning to the guild. They offered the use of a stretcher, but Brynjolf, seeing the look of horror on my face, declined. He then lifted me up and carried me outside the temple.

It was early in the morning, the sun still not risen over the mountaintops. Very likely several of our fellow guild members were either still on the job or just returning home. Everyone else in the city was asleep.

We entered through the Cistern. Brynjolf took me not to my own room but to his. I feigned sleep while he quietly fended off the curious inquiries and eager welcomes.

“Shall I draw you a bath?” he asked, setting me down on his bed.

“All right,” I said. “No funny business though.”

So this was me now. Calowen Bright-hair, shy, chaste, reluctant to engage in carnal affairs. My body had betrayed me. I almost felt as if it no longer deserved the pleasures of the flesh. Brynjolf ran the bath then helped me disrobe before lowering me into the water. I spent a great deal of time staring at my legs. It had only been a week, but already they looked weak and pale. The feet had to be adjusted so they wouldn’t bend at odd angles. And then there was my left arm. I could lift it, a little, but the hand was useless. I was, in a word, a disaster.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Brynjolf told me. “There’s no shame in living through what you’ve lived through. And you’ll only get stronger from here on out.”

“I’m not going to disagree with you since you’re technically my boss,” I said. “But look at these things. I’ve seen chickens with sturdier legs.”

He chuckled. “Put your head back so I can wash your hair.”

Afterward he helped me dry off and dress, then set me back down in his bed, arranging the covers so that I wouldn’t get too hot. His room was warm, the little brazier in the corner performing its task well. All the rooms down here were like this; I often felt we lived better than many of the folk living topside. And our rooms, though small, were haphazardly rich with the fruits of our labors; Brynjolf didn’t keep as much as some did, but there was a heavy carpet over the cold stone floor, and the sheets and pillows were quite fine. He also had quite the collection of books in the corner.

I decided to rest for a few more hours, and I was very happy when he opted to climb in beside me. Cuddling had become a rather laborious process for me, so he obliged by pulling me close and folding his arm around me, his face pressed against my neck. I don’t think I’d ever slept so soundly.

I was alone when I woke up, and actually hungry. In fact, that’s probably what woke me up: the smell of something hot and warm, a tray being placed on the table beside the bed.

I opened my eyes.

“Vex!” I said, hastily, awkwardly trying to sit up, bracing myself with my left elbow while pushing the loose hair out of my face. “What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you, too,” she said. “I’m bringing you breakfast. Technically lunch.”

“Where’s Brynjolf?”

“He has some business to attend to. He’s neglected the guild a little too much this week. He should be back by tomorrow morning.”

 Of course. The de facto head of the Thieves Guild had essentially been idling his time away tending to an invalid. I imagine Vex, Delvin, and the others had had to take up a bit of slack in his absence. That had to have been annoying.

“Oh,” I said. “Sorry.”

She gave me a curious look. “About what?”

I shook my head. “Never mind.”

She made to help me sit up a bit better, and I started to shrug her off, but then thought better of it. I needed to sit up properly to eat, and sure, I could do it myself, but it was difficult. Besides, for the first time in a week, I was genuinely hungry. The faster I got that food into my belly, the better.

Vex set the tray in my lap once I was fully upright.

“Ysmir’s beard,” I said after the first few sips of hot soup, “This is heaven.”

She snorted. “I’ll be sure to tell that to Vekel.”

Once I’d scarfed down the soup and thoroughly demolished the piece of bread beside it, I felt better able to converse like a normal person. I was no longer on the medicine the healers had given me, too, so no longer felt in constant danger of needing a nap.

“So how is everyone?” I asked, pulling the covers up past my waist. I was shirtless and felt a little silly, sitting in bed while she sat in a chair beside me fully dressed.

“Everyone’s fine. Business as usual. We haven’t fallen apart without Maven’s guiding influence, but it’s only been a few days.”

“Cheerful as ever,” I said.

“I’m just being honest. Speaking of brutal honesty, you look like shit. Did that brute even bother to help you brush your hair?”

I looked up, as if I could somehow see the waves of red hair that were no doubt sticking out in every direction.

“Hm. I guess it just sort of dried like that. Also, that’s a little unfair to Brynjolf.”

“Is it? Have you seen your reflection lately? I guess now I know why you never grow a beard.”

Oh, well, yes. That was likely a disaster. My mother used to tease me about my ‘whiskers’ coming in right before she and my step-father died. I hated it. I knew it was another word for beard, but I knew what she was referring to. True enough, when my beard finally did come in, it came in red as the hair on my head and as wild and curling, too.

“I can hardly hold a mirror up to shave,” I said. I sounded grumpy but didn’t care.

Vex rolled her eyes. “Stop being a martyr for crying out loud. Here, let me help.”

I protested, but she ignored me, predictably enough. She found Brynjolf’s shaving equipment and filled the little bowl with water, handing me the cream and razor before holding the mirror up for me. It was a little awkward since I only had the use of one hand, but I was able to get the job done. And I already felt fresher and cleaner.

Vex then brushed my hair out and tied it behind my head in its usual little bun. It was a bit tighter than I tended to fix it, but I didn’t say anything. She then rummaged through Brynjolf’s dresser for a shirt. It was too big, of course, but at least it was cozy.

“All right,” she said, standing and picking up the tray with empty dishes. “I’m going to tell the others they can come and visit you now.”

“What?” I blinked up at her. “No! Not yet. I’m not—

“I’m telling them,” she said. “You’re finally presentable, so stop complaining.”

And with that she turned and left.

I sat in bed for a while, fretting. Then when a few minutes passed and no one had yet begun to appear, I started to grow bored. I looked wistfully over at the book shelf. The room was small, and the shelf was only a few feet from the bed. But it would mean flopping out of bed and crawling across the carpet like some sort of animal. Gods know how I’d make it back _into_ the bed.

But then they finally started coming. Sapphire was the first. She hugged me and kissed me and told me that if I ever grew tired of Brynjolf’s ministrations that I knew where her room was. (This was, naturally, accompanied by a wink.) Then she showed me a bag full of clanking items she’d brought. The first she pulled out was some sort of wooden contraption that was meant to fit in the palm of one’s hand. A spring separated the two pieces, so that a person could squeeze the apparatus, presumably building up strength in the hand and fingers.

“It’s for weapons training, for working on your grip,” she explained. “Here, try it.”

I tried it with my right hand, and it was easy enough. But then she made me try with my left hand. She had to help me fold my fingers around it properly. My hand twitched a little, but it didn’t want to squeeze. It just lay there, and the fingers kept losing their grip and falling off.

“This is pointless,” I said.

“Nonsense! You just have to keep practicing. Now take a look at these.”

There were weighted balls, bands for stretching, another springed apparatus similar to the handheld one but meant for the elbow. She had me try them all and made me promise to practice several times a day, no matter how discouraged I felt.

Delvin was next. We had never grown particularly close, so I was a little startled by his visit, but I suppose I shouldn’t have been. He and Vex were Brynjolf’s joint second-in-commands, after all. And Brynjolf was what he wanted to talk about the most. It seems Brynjolf isn’t really one to talk about himself, to reveal what he’s thinking or feeling, and some of the others were curious or worried about him, considering everything that had happened with Maven Black-briar.

I assured him that Brynjolf was fine, at least as far as I could tell. I said I thought Maven’s death had been a load off his shoulders, and that the burden of keeping all of our secrets must have been very great for him.

“And he hasn’t told me anything,” I added, almost as an afterthought. “He wouldn’t. He’s not that kind of man.”

“Don’t have to tell me that. I’ve known him far longer than you have, lad.”

He left me then with a promise to bring me a few sets of locks and lockpicks to practice with. Couldn’t have my skills going soft, could we?

Next was Niruin, who upon my request showed me the healing wound on his shoulder. I told him it was sure to scar and attract countless feminine attention, which he didn’t seem amused by. He said that maybe if my left arm ever decided to cooperate again we could put our heads together and come up with some sort of harness that would allow me to use a bow again. I thought it a very kind thing for him to suggest.

The day passed quickly enough with so many people constantly stopping by. In between visits I practiced my exercises with Sapphire’s various contraptions. By the end of the day I became convinced that I could feel a tingle along the edge of my left wrist and the back of my hand. It was probably all in my head, but it let me go to bed with a smile on my face for the first time in days.

When I woke up, Brynjolf was beside me. I watched him sleep for a few minutes, listening to the sound of his light snores. I wondered where he’d been. He smelled like the outside—snow and trees and burning wood. Perhaps a bit of blood, but not his own.

He stirred a little, his eyes finally opening and meeting mine.

“Good morning,” I said.

He smiled. “Good morning.”

I let him kiss me, and even though I could feel my desire for him beginning to grow, I eventually pushed him gently back.

He quirked a brow at me. “Breakfast?”

I grinned and sighed, turning carefully over onto my back. “Hm, you know the key to my heart.”

He dressed himself first before then helping me. Remembering Vex’s rebuke about my hair, I had him help me with that, too. Then he knelt down and told me to put my arm around his neck, so I did. He slipped an arm around my back and under my legs and straightened, lifting me up. I realized then with some consternation that he intended for us to eat breakfast in the Flagon.

He did. He carried me there without so much as a by your leave. Vex and Tonila were still eating when we got there; he set me down between them and took the seat opposite me. Tonila asked me if I knew anything about inspecting jewels for authenticity, and I said that I did. Vex asked me how I was getting on with Sapphire’s strengthening contraptions.

She also said she’d been looking after Neve. This both surprised and warmed me considerably. I’m embarrassed to say I hadn’t given much thought to my poor horse since first waking up in the temple of Kynareth.

“You should go and see her,” she said. “She probably misses you.”

I snorted into my coffee. “The stables are a long way from here.”

“Brynjolf will take you,” she said.

He’d been reading Vekel’s paper and looked startled when he caught us both looking at him.

“Of course,” he said, straightening. “I should have thought of it earlier.”

“You’ve had a lot on your mind,” said Vex.

I wanted to protest. That was a long way for Brynjolf to have to carry me, and it wasn’t as necessary as having to bring me home from the temple of Kynareth. Plus we’d have to parade through the city itself to get to the stables, and I didn’t like the thought of being seen by all of Riften as I was now—crippled and weak and useless.

But Vex was glaring at me, daring me to refuse, and I knew a hopeless battle when it was staring me in the face.

Once we’d both finished breakfast, Brynjolf rose to collect me again, smirking ever so slightly at what must have been the ever-so-baleful look in my eyes. Nevertheless, I obliged, looping my good arm around his neck and letting him lift me back up into his arms.

“Are you sure I’m not too heavy?” I asked. “The stables really are far.”

“You aren’t too heavy,” he said simply, so I decided to let it drop.

We left the Flagon and made our way back through the Cistern, climbing the steps up through the exit and entering the city of Riften. Brynjolf kept to the back roads of the residential section, weaving behind the great stone houses, and I was grateful for this, for it kept us out of the general public eye. It was a shorter route for him, too, though he continued to show no signs of being over tired or strained.

The gates to the city were open, the guards giving us a curious look as we passed through. The smell of the stables was a welcome one: hay and leather and oil, and the musty though not unpleasant odor of the horses themselves.

Brynjolf set me down on an oversized bale of hay before ducking inside the stables to fetch my horse. The Riften stables were large, perpetually busy, and nearly always filled to near capacity. I sat there for a good five or ten minutes, returning the curious looks of the travelers and stable hands. Then I heard a low whicker, and a familiar clopping of hooves, and there over my shoulder was Neve.

Brynjolf led her forward, but she pulled away from him and came forward on her own for the last few steps. Her head dipped down towards mine, and I put my arms around her as best I could, hugging her close. She pulled back after a moment, her soft lips nipping at my hair, puffing hot breath against my face.

“I’ve missed you, too,” I said, stroking her gloriously fuzzy nose with my good hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring you anything.”

She knocked her nose against my hand a few times, turning her head so I could scratch under her chin.

“Someone should ride her,” I said.

I didn’t want to say the obvious—that I should probably sell her.

“I can take her out now and then,” Brynjolf said. “So can Vex and the others. Though something tells me she won’t ride as smoothly for us as she did for you.”

I smiled a little, my fingers moving up a bit to scratch her cheek. “She’s a one man kind of woman, I’m afraid. Aren’t you, my lovely, lovely Neve?”

She whickered softly again, moving to rest her head gently over my shoulder, her breath puffing warmly against my back. I patted her cheek with my good hand.

“Suppose I tried it,” I said, not quite sure where the words were coming from. The notion made very little sense. How can a man who can’t even stand on his own two feet possibly mount and ride a horse?

Brynjolf straightened away from the post he’d been leaning against, his crossed arms unfolding.

“Suppose you tried what?” he asked. “To ride her?”

I looked up at him, and I could see the battle being waged in his eyes. On the one hand, he was happy to see me show any kind of initiative at all—I was a little embarrassed to realize this because I _had_ spent a good portion of the last few days feeling very, very sorry for myself. But on the other hand, he was reluctant to give me any sort of hope for the future.

“All right,” he finally said. “I’ll mount behind you though. I’m sure there’s a pillion saddle around here somewhere that will let us both ride astride.”

I couldn’t very well argue with that. I’d had difficulty sitting upright in the chair at breakfast. Keeping myself on top of the saddle would probably have been impossible, at least not without me leaning all the way forward.

Once the saddle was located, Brynjolf brought Neve around, tying her halter to a post so he could secure the saddle. He then stepped back and looked at me for a second, his hands on his hips, then at Neve, then back at me.

“All right,” he said again. “I’m going to pick you up and sort of hoist you up towards her. You’ll have to use your good arm to pull yourself all the way up.”

I nodded. “I can do it.”

He gave me the closest I’d yet seen to an annoyed look—he wasn’t happy about me doing this, but he clearly didn’t want to tell me ‘no,’ either. I think he was aware of how my immobility put my life literally in his hands, and he was keenly aware that it wasn’t for him to either allow or disallow me to do whatever I wanted. But he couldn’t hide his disapproval, or his concern for my safety.

It was far more manageable than I think both of us anticipated. He picked me up and brought me towards Neve, then hoisted me up as high he could, tipping me forward slightly. I reached out with my good hand and grabbed the saddle, pulling myself bodily forward. Once I had at least my torso leaning forward, he reached up and pushed my right leg over Neve’s withers, then helped straighten me out.

It was a strange feeling. I knew I should feel the immense split between my legs as I gripped the sides of my horse’s wide barrel chest, yet I felt nothing at all. There was, startlingly, a faint sensation near the vicinity of my tailbone. The muscles in my ass seemed to awaken ever so slightly, or maybe it was just that I hadn’t noticed just where the numbness began and ended.

“Brynjolf,” I said, my voice sounding slightly hoarse. “I can feel the saddle.”

He froze, looking up from the bridle he was now sliding over Neve’s halter.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

The anxious hope I heard in his own voice rather struck me. Maybe I wasn’t the only one he was worried about disappointing.

“I know what my own damned ass feels like,” I said. “Of course I’m sure. I mean, at least I think I’m sure.” I shifted a little, bracing my good arm against the saddle as leverage. I wiggled my hips a little, then leaned forward, pushing my bottom half back as much as I could without, ahem, compromising other parts of my anatomy.

I definitely felt something.

Once the bridle was on, Brynjolf looped the reins over Neve’s head and made quick work of mounting behind me. He put his arms around me, gathering the reins in his hands while simultaneously pulling me close against his chest.

“No, don’t,” I said. “I mean, I like it, but don’t. I think I can do this on my own.”

Reluctantly, I felt him straighten a little, pulling back, and I did the same.

It went about as well as I had any reason to hope it would. Brynjolf had full control, and I could tell Neve didn’t like this, her ears constantly pinning back towards us, as if to ask me, _what on earth do you think you’re doing?!_ But she listened. I alternated between letting my hands hover slightly in the air and bracing them against her mane. My legs were still dead weight hanging against my horse’s sides, but I was more than sure that with each turn, each pause, each bunching of the muscles beneath the saddle—my hips and tailbone could feel it.

By the time I dismounted, my back was a little sore from all the balancing I’d been trying to do. I was far more ecstatic than I probably ought to have been. I talked to Brynjolf endlessly about it after he’d returned Neve to her stall and came to collect me again. For once he didn’t frown but instead smiled a little.

“I want to do it again tomorrow,” I said later that night.

We were in bed, the warm glow of the brazier the only light in the room. I could hear other people moving and talking softly in the surrounding rooms and corridors, but for once it didn’t annoy me that they could move around so freely and I couldn’t.

“Do what?” he asked.

I think he’d just been about to fall asleep.

Sleep wasn’t happening for me just yet. My mind was churning with possibility—and hope.

“Ride,” I said. “I want to do it again tomorrow, and every day after that. And I’ll practice Sapphire’s exercises every chance I get. Hell,” I gave a little laugh, “I’ll practice them while I’m riding.”

“Mm,” came the sleepy reply.

I thought I was to be left alone with my thoughts after that, but he wasn’t quite done yet.

“Are you sure you want to try this?” he asked.

He sounded less sleepy now. Worried, perhaps. And I wasn’t an idiot. I knew why. The return of feeling in my body had been gradual and steady, but it had tapered off rather definitively while I was still at the temple. He probably thought I’d just come to terms with living like this for the rest of my life, and to give myself hope when there truly wasn’t meant to be any—well, like I said. He was worried.

“I’m sure,” I said lightly.

He was quiet for a moment, then: “All right.”

And so I did. And I don’t know if the blood of my mother and father had anything to do with it or if the gods truly had their hands resting on both of my shoulders, guiding me throughout the course of each day. But I had been right: I _could_ feel the saddle. And with each passing day, I could feel more of it, and soon I could feel my horse, too. I could feel the chair beneath my legs when Brynjolf set me down, and I could feel the heat of the water when he lowered me into the bath. My left arm and hand were less responsive. But one day I set the little springed exercise contraption between the fingers and thumb of my left hand—and it didn’t fall out.

I cried. I just sat there in bed, staring at my nearly numb hand holding that stupid little piece of wood and metal, tears rolling down my cheeks and getting trapped in scraggly new growth—I didn’t shave as often as I used to, naturally, just enough to keep the beast at bay, as Vex liked to put it. I tried to squeeze the contraption, but not surprisingly, it didn’t budge. But I was holding it. _I was holding it._

My progress was slow but steady. Months passed, but with each new day it felt as if some new part of me was awakening after a deep and dreamless slumber. There came a day when I didn’t need Brynjolf to ride behind me; he stayed down and led Neve, watching anxiously as I rode, shouting curses at me when I grinned and lifted both my arms out straight beside me, balancing in the saddle. I could lift my knees, my feet still dangling loosely, if I wanted to, and I could shuffle along on the floor, pulling myself along with my good hand and my bad. Of course I never did this around the others, only to maneuver about Brynjolf’s little room.

I practiced standing when he wasn’t there. The first attempt was a disaster. I fell almost immediately and couldn’t catch myself properly, the side of my face hitting the bedpost with a solid _thwack!_ Luckily Brynjolf was gone for the next few days, so I didn’t have to answer any immediate questions. Then again I didn’t have him to bring me to and from the toilet and had to rely on Rune or Durge or whoever remembered to check on me. So that wasn’t very fun. (There was that afternoon when no one came by for over five hours. I was not only bored out of my mind but had to piss like you wouldn’t believe. I almost baptized an old Dwemer vase Brynjolf kept on one of his bookshelves. Luckily Vex came by well into the evening full of apologies about dinner. _‘I’m about to spray the fucking walls, Vex!’_ I cried at her _._ She’d been predictably disgusted, but Rune was duly fetched and my poor bladder finally given relief.)

But I kept trying. And then one evening I finally did it. I was finally standing, my hands hovering precariously at my sides, my eyes staring down my still mostly numb feet, silently ordering them to listen to commands. I stood there, and I didn’t fall, and I wanted to shout with triumph but I had a feeling that might possibly result in another black eye.

And that’s when Brynjolf entered the room—the sight of me wobbling upright beside his bed, my arms outstretched, right hand clenched into a fist.

“By the Nine!” he cried. He just stood there, staring at me with a half-open mouth.

I grinned. “Surprise!” Then I started to fall.

He ran forward, catching me around the waist and holding me upright against him. I wrapped my arms around him, and since our faces were already close we kissed one another like we’d never kissed before. I was overcome with joy, and so was he, I think, but the warm taste of his mouth filled me with more than joy. I let out a breathy little moan, and as close as we were to one another, there was no hiding what we both felt.

There’d never been anything wrong with me in that department. At least not physically. Once I was home from the temple I had full feeling down there, else taking a piss would’ve been even more of a headache than it already was. And I could do other things. But I hadn’t. If Brynjolf felt frustrated by this, he never said, never even showed it.

He lowered us both to the bed. I want to say that we immediately began ripping one another’s clothes off like a pair of animals in heat, but we didn’t. Honestly, we were within our rights to do so. I’m pretty sure we’d both wanted this fairly soon after we’d first met each other. But there was always something keeping us apart, whether it was his natural tendency towards aloofness as the head of the guild or my fear of falling in love with the wrong damned person yet again. One thing I’m certain of is that it was never about my body, no matter how damaged it had become. I alternated between hating it and believing in its capacity to heal, but throughout the whole ordeal Brynjolf had worshipped it. Worshipped it because it was mine, and because he worshipped me, and I him. I suppose it’s a little sickening, like something from some tawdry novel, but there it is.

It was very late, and very unlikely that anyone would come visiting, barring some kind of emergency. Nevertheless, he took the time to shift us so that the bedcovers covered our bodies. We removed our clothing as we kissed, and I gazed down at his naked body beneath the blankets, my right hand touching his warm skin, feeling the compact muscle beneath. We had obviously seen one another naked before; even my baths notwithstanding, we’d been sharing the same room for months now. But this was different. We were lovers now, and I couldn’t get enough of looking at him and touching him.

And so we made love. I’d had a lot of partners in the past, but only two lovers. The first had struggled to love me in his own way, and I’d struggled to do the same. The sex was raw and primal and channeled our feelings for one another in a way we probably both would never have admitted. When it was over, I mourned its passing without even realizing that that’s what I was doing. Perhaps that’s part of the reason why Brynjolf steered clear of me those first few months.

It was different with him. His movements were slow, deliberate, his hands on my body thoughtful and controlled. I wanted him to go faster, harder, my good hand gripping his naked back, but he only chuckled and chastised me for being impatient. He waited for me to come first—something, in my experience, that not every man will do—and now I think there are few images I love more than the look on his flushed face, his eyes fluttering closed, his lips stilling against mine as pleasure consumes him fully.

Afterward we did a lot of staring into one another’s eyes and running our hands slowly over one another’s warm, damp skin. Definitely more staring than talking. I know, tawdry romance novel. I suppose there’s more truth to those things than one might suppose.

Then we slept. And it was one of those mornings when Brynjolf didn’t have to leave, and so when I woke up, he was still there. He smiled at me, and I smiled at him, and I didn’t say anything, and he didn’t say anything about my silence—pointing out my propensity for being clever at the most inopportune moments was one of his favorite things to tease me about. Then I closed my eyes, moved a little bit closer, and let myself drift back off to sleep. I can only assume he did the same.

We were late for breakfast. I was more dozing than sleeping, and I heard  more than one softly approaching pair of footsteps. Each time there’d be a pause at the door, then, after a moment, the footsteps would turn and head back in the opposite direction. Evidently, word must have gotten around, and then eventually the footsteps stopped coming.

The needs of our bodies—both in terms of our grumbling stomachs and our protesting bladders—were what finally dragged us out of bed. Brynjolf still carried me, of course. At the Flagon, there were a few late stragglers present, including Sapphire, who looked as if she, too, had just woken up. I recalled that she’d been gone for several days and had been set to return very late last night. Without any sort of warning or fanfare, Brynjolf set me carefully down, and I performed my standing trick. The shocked cheers were nearly deafening.

And so my life in the Thieves Guild progressed. Walking happened sooner than I expected, though it was a long time before I could do it by myself. The incident in the caves was nearly a year gone when I finally had full function back in my right leg. My left leg never did come around completely. Parts of my foot and shin remained forever numb, leaving me with a shuffling gait wherever I went. Niruin and Vex put their heads together and came up with a sort of brace, the bits of metal fitting together around the lower half of my leg and over my boot, lending me a little more stability. I could walk at a nearly normal pace after that, and we added straps of leather at the bottom to hide the clanking of the metal against the stone floor.

My left hand, too,  never fully recovered. I could move my fingers, but only a little. Niruin came through yet again, though this time he worked alone, so it took a bit longer. Finally, he presented me with a sort of glove, a metal skeleton sewn into the leather, forcing my thumb to remain in the proper shooting position. We worked on a bow that would work with the glove, and soon I was able to shoot again. I had to pause and make sure the glove was securely notched against the side of the bow before I could pull back, but it worked. I could hunt if I wanted, and I taught Neve to let me mount her from her right side. Brynjolf didn’t like me going off on my own, but he couldn’t stop me either. I’d spent the first six years of my life wandering Skyrim with my mother, and so the need to sometimes be outside and away from everything and everyone was sort of in my blood. I always returned before the sun set, and every time Brynjolf was there to meet me at the edge of town, pacing, hands on his hips. The guards posted to the outer gates even began to tease him. I figured they were well within their rights to do so.

Meanwhile, the guild itself continued to thrive. Maven’s absence created a great upheaval in the underworld, and many heads of business shuffled in the aftermath, several attempting to take her place at the head. But our services continued to be relied upon. And our skills in turn served our own needs.

As for me, I now made a poor thief. Silence was physically beyond me, even without the brace—with it, the metal creaked and the leather rubbed no matter how diligently I cared for the contraption, and without it, my shuffling left boot dragged with each step. My accuracy with the bow remained unmatched, but drawing and shooting swiftly was now beyond me. Yet Brynjolf, Vex, and Delvin continued to assign me when my skills and knowledge proved useful. Perhaps this wasn’t as often as some of the others, but it was enough to let me know that I wasn’t allowed to remain here out of love or pity. Both of these I would have accepted, but I didn’t have to. And the only reward and easement being Brynjolf’s lover earned me was the man himself. And seeing him nearly every day, talking to him, sitting quietly together in our room at night without talking, both of us reading, and ending each day with my arms around his spent form, my own body still shaking slightly with wonder and pleasure—well, it was enough. It was more than enough.

I was happy. Perhaps the happiest I had ever been in my entire life.

Calowen Bright-hair, adventurer, thief, and lover. I suppose I don’t do as much adventuring these days. And I suppose I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I really wouldn’t.

 

_Finis~_

* * *

 

Thank you so much for taking time to read this story! I hope you enjoyed spending time with Cal, Vex, Brynjolf, and the others. I would really, really appreciate it from the bottom of my heart if you would leave a comment below!! 

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